


Till I meet you

by Emmafrostdimonds



Category: Tarzan - All Media Types, X-Men (Movies), X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014) - Fandom, X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom, X-Men:Apocalypse (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Jungle, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Tarzan Fusion, Angst, BAMF Emma, BAMF Erik, BAMF Logan, BAMF Remy, Body Hair, Charles Xavier has a Ph.D in Adorable, Charles You Slut, Continuity What Continuity, Cute Logan, Don't Examine This Too Closely, Erik You Slut, Erik is a Shark, Erik/Machetes, Fluff, Honestly Charles What Are You Thinking, Hurt/Comfort, Is Erik/Remy a thing?, It is now, Logan is Tarzan, Love Triangles, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, Poor Charles, Science, Slight Humor, dialogue-heavy, kind of, language barriers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-23
Updated: 2016-06-23
Packaged: 2018-05-28 14:27:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6332707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emmafrostdimonds/pseuds/Emmafrostdimonds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charles, the easily flustered English scientist, Raven, his zealous sister, and Erik, his best friend and homosexual guide, all decide to travel to Africa to study the wildlife. </p><p>Not even an hour after setting up camp, Charles is captured by a man that acts like a gorilla. This man brings forth new challenges, people, and most importantly, a new understanding of humanity, and how one thing might not be how it seems.</p><p>Naturally, Charles falls in love with him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The first time I saw you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Butterynutjob](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Butterynutjob/gifts).



> Thanks to Alexavidr, my beta that made this Awsome...we were days and days talking on witch rute we should take with this and finally agreed, so here it is the first chapter if you like it, well...you know, show your apritiation. Alexa did a lot of work and she is one of my best friends so cheek her fics, cuz she likes what she does and you would have a great time.  
> And Thanks to dwaroxxx with Xavierine art got me to write this! (Click [here](http://dwaroxxx.tumblr.com/tagged/XAVIERINE) for dwaroxxx's art!) I wouldent have starteed if I hadent gotten inspired.
> 
> And I should mention also Butterynutjob, one of my first friends in the archive; Cheek the fics wirten by Buttery they are worthwhile.
> 
> The Tarzan AU was always on my mind, so this is a remix AU from the book, the comics and the Movie made of Disney. Logan is TARZAN and Charles is Jane.

“Xavier, you shouldn’t have come here if you're just going to stand there and point at every single twig that you see,” Erik huffed as he began making a path through the jungle with his machete, the sun beginning to shine orange light through the dense trees; sunset was approaching. A shiny sheen of sweat covered Erik's forehead as he hacked at the undergrowth, making his hair stick to it. Charles couldn't help but stare.

“Call me Charles, Erik, I have said it at least a hundred times. In response to your complaining, I was bored in the mansion, and after all, I am a scientist and...and I couldn’t help myself,” Charles said, more like panted. He stumbled over a root, barely holding onto his books in his arms. He tugged at the bandana around his neck and cursed the big hat over his head, making him look like an explorer from the books he used to read as a child. However he was sure he only looked like a sweaty, pasty ball of English dough compared to the Greek god clearing a path through vines and tree limbs in front of him. He should've hired an ugly guide. That way he wouldn't have to be so distracted as he ventured farther and farther into one of the most dangerous places on Earth.

Alas.

“Well you probably should've left the two-hundred pound textbooks at home; there is no one to educate here…except gorillas, cheetahs and anything else that lives here and wants to tear your throat out for blinking at it wrong. I still think that a soft scientist like you should've stayed along with them, too.”

“Nonsense Erik, I couldn’t let you come alone here; I couldn’t have missed all the fun that you were going to have. And, truthfully, the mansion is too boring without you.”

“Really? Should I be flattered?” Erik said mockingly, turning his head to glance behind him with a teasing look at the young noble.

Charles blushed, indignant. “Well…” Charles tried to talk his way out of it but he couldn’t.

“So, this was the real reason why you came, isn’t it? Not to discover another entirely different ecosystem in a different hemisphere as you, but to stare at me all day? Photographs and your right hand exist as well, Charles,” continued Erik, determined to make Charles catch fire with all the blood rushing to his cheeks and ears. 

That was one thing that Charles tried not to like about Erik: his blatancy and wit. He was the only man that Charles knew that would call out Charles on his potential queerness. Maybe that was because Erik was queer too, which Charles guessed was why it came so easily to him. He knew that Erik had suffered a lot because of it, so he tried not to bring it up, but it was still something that constantly nagged at him. How could a man so undeniably gorgeous be homosexual? Surely there was some sort of explanation, mental trauma, an accidental hook-up, something, because a man that goddamn perfect couldn't possibly not want a woman just as perfect and have even more perfect babies with her. It made no sense.

And it wasn't like Charles didn't want him. Dear Lord, he did. He just didn't know why Erik would want that with a man, not with a woman. He could get any girl he wanted, with his chiseled jaw and steely demeanor. Charles knew from experience that the female gender loved that. And it wasn't a good experience, because often he was the one being left for a man like Erik. However, here was the template for a real-life Adonis, and he was gay. Charles wanted to put Erik under a microscope and just figure him out already.

Of course, it could be explained with science, nothing was without scientific origin, and consequently, evidence proving the origin. Evolution was explained with science, as was the plague, and countless other things. Homosexuality could be explained, just like anything else that existed and was tangible. So as long as Erik was willing, which he obviously wouldn't be, Charles would crack the mystery of why Erik decided men were more attractive than women, which was not supposed to be programmed into the male species' mind for thousands of years, but somehow got mixed in over the centuries. Unfortunately, they were in the middle of Africa's densest forests, and didn't have the right type of equipment for that type of research.

Charles bit back a soft sound at the thought of their situation, one probably-gay man and one actual gay man, alone in the jungle. Jesus. 

“I really wanted to visit the jungle,” Charles tried hard to sound convincing, “and-and I thought it might be good to have you around.” Erik smirked, and Charles growled under his breath.

“We'll see about that,” Erik said, his shark-like smile still bright even as the sun was setting. Charles felt faint.

All of a sudden, without warning, Erik pushed Charles to the ground and landed on top of him. “Wha - ?” Charles said, trying to hide the fact that Erik was on top of him.

“A wild animal, but I don’t think it saw us,” Erik whispered into his ear, panting low and controlled. Charles almost moaned, but then reminded himself that they could get eaten. He was going to open his mouth to say something else, perhaps for Erik to get off of him, but Erik interjected quickly, growling, "Stay. Quiet."

"I'm trying, damn you," Charles hissed in response. He froze, suddenly, when he felt something hard against his hip. His voice stuttered in his throat, and his eyes flickered to Erik's blue-grey-green eyes questioningly. Erik raised an eyebrow, confused, not suggestive or seductive.

That was when Charles realized that it was his machete sheath digging into his skin, not Erik's...

Goddammit.

Wait. No. Thank God. Or...Charles merely swallowed and flushed bright red; hopefully that was able to be put off on the humidity. 

After a minute of staring into and looking away from Erik's intense gaze, Erik let him up, extending a hand that Charles eagerly accepted. 

“That was a wild animal? I didn't hear anything," remarked Charles, suddenly tense.

“Yes, Charles, there are a lot of these here…they don’t call it the jungle for nothing,” he chuckled, somehow unfazed and charming as ever. “But don’t worry; I always have my gun ready.”

“Thank God you are with me,” Charles blurted out, biting his lip almost as a reprimand for his response. Erik smirked. Charles squeezed his eyes shut, positioning his huge, ridiculous hat over his face so Erik couldn't see his embarrassment.

“I think the humidity's getting to the flirting mechanism in your brain,” quipped Erik, "you're usually more subtle than that, Charles."

"Shut it, Erik," mumbled the brunet. "You're usually more angry and broody than this, too."

"I'm enjoying myself," Erik said simply with his signature shit-eating grin. "It's fun to see you get all flustered, Mr. I Get All the Ladies With My Horrendous Lines."

"Not all of them," argued Charles, fiddling with his backpack straps. He wasn't sure why he pointed that out, but Erik seemed to sober up after that.

"C'mon," Erik grumbled after minutes of silence between them. "Camp's not that far."

 

They arrived to the camp in no time and Charles looked around in confusion. “There are no houses here!”

“We are going to camp out, Charles my dear,” he purred condescendingly as he pulled his shirt off for the sake of Charles seeing his naked chest, and he chuckled as Charles' eyes stared deliberately at a spot in the dirt near his shoes. That bloody tease. "So we will sleep in tents.”

“Separately?” There it was a again, mouth before tongue, he couldn’t help himself. Erik's chest was lean and defined, muscular but not bulky. His shoulders-German-were broad, while his waist was small and trim. He was practically the definition of perfection. Charles wiped his mouth in case he was drooling, which, thankfully, he wasn't.

“Of course, unless you would like it otherwise…,” Erik trailed off, his eyebrow raised and lip quirked up. 

Charles just turned completely red; he knew was a lost cause at this point.

“Don’t worry Charles; just give me shout if you need anything. Or anyone," Erik added quietly into Charles' ear before stepping away, the muscles in his back flexing beautifully. Charles shivered and wet his lips, a habit of his when he was nervous. There was absolutely no way he'd imagined that. Erik Lehnsherr, brooding, gorgeous Erik Lehnsherr, had practically just propositioned him. For sex. Not a debate on whether or not genetic testing was ethical, or another review of the maps and plans for the next few weeks. That was a blatant, very sexual proposition from Erik Lehnsherr to Charles Xavier. 

Charles, you can't, he reminded himself, you're here for scientific research involving-

In a split second, he was pushed onto the ground. "Erik!" he shouted, shielding his face with his hands, which, if it were a big cat, would be a mistake. 

The yell alerted Erik to take his gun out and try to shoot the beast, his frightened "Charles!" sparking an odd warmth in his chest. Charles waited for the gunshot, or the claws, but neither happened. Instead, there were two different voices laughing at him.

“It was just your sister Charles,” Erik guffawed, to which Charles finally removed his hands and saw his sister Raven giggling evilly above him. Her blond hair was in a long braid that trailed over her shoulder, brushing his nose ever-so-slightly.

In the process of Erik teasing him, or seducing him, Charles didn't know at this point, Charles had forgotten that Raven had gotten there days prior to them, so she probably already knew the surroundings. Raven had gone there simply because she was bored, and the Xavier family certainly had enough money to fund her trip to cure her boredom. Not that Charles minded, either; Raven was a good person to have when you were in the middle of nowhere. Plus, her presence would help Charles keep his head on his shoulders around Erik, which, if he wanted to get any work done, he needed.

"You should've seen your face, little brother," Raven wheezed, rolling off of him and onto the dusty ground, coughing with laughter. Erik had stopped laughing, but a smile was still present on his face. Charles found he didn't really mind all that much; Erik's smile was fitting, if scary, but then again Erik was scary.

“Raven! I'll kill you if you do that again, where the fuck were you, Jesus-" Charles stammered, his heart still beating wildly in his chest, making his tongue swell in his mouth, especially as Erik bent down-Charles exhaled softly, hoping the other two wouldn't notice-and helped him him up. "And I'm older!" he protested as he landed on his feet, for good measure.

“Oh, little brother just swore...what am I going to tell Mister Erik?" Raven mocked in a high voice that was oddly reminiscent to Charles' old nanny. Erik rolled his eyes and went back to making a fire. "I'm sure he wouldn't appreciate your language-"

“Stop it, Raven, Erik isn't a care-taker, for God's sake-"

“Oh but I could beg to differ,” she said, dripping with sexual innuendo. "In fact, I think he could take care of you very, very well."

"Raven!"

Over by the small fire, Charles could hear Erik laughing with a volume that couldn't be fake but was louder than Charles normally heard Erik laugh. He scowled. The moment he's finally fulfilling one of his life's dreams, he's being humiliated. Typical. He walked away from Raven, so Erik couldn’t see clenched jaw. Damn them, anyway. He'd be fine if he just got away for some fresh air for a few minutes.

"Charles, where are you going?" Erik asked cautiously, just as Charles had reached the edge of the clearing. "It's getting dark."

"I-" Charles paused, and Erik sighed, putting down the box of matches to walk over to him. "Jus-"

In the blink of an eye a gorilla-or what had to be a gorilla-snatched Charles by the waist and pulled him into the underbrush with a silent whoosh. Charles let out a piercing cry as the ground below him suddenly was much, much farther below him. He turned his head to see a dark figure climbing a tree.

There were moments in a man's life where thinking logically could not get him out of a situation. This was one of them. Thankfully, Charles was not thinking logically in the slightest. Rather, he was thinking about how he really should've taken Erik up on his offer because, honestly, it had been a while, or how glad he was that his ridiculous hat was no longer needed on his head.

Of course, there were also moments in a man's life where reality slaps him in the head with much-needed adrenaline to focus, and not die.

"No!" Charles shouted at it when his mouth finally began to work. "Let me down, please, PLEASE! LET ME DOWN NOW!"

Below him, the leaves and plants were blurring into a gorgeous lush green that Charles wished he could appreciate more. The jungle truly was a magical place, Charles thought absentmindedly, before he shook his head. Now was really not the time for him to goggle at the sights below, especially when it was more than fifty feet beneath him. Charles gulped.

"CHARLES!" Charles almost sobbed when he heard Erik's voice, strained and anxious. It was far away, too far away, but it made him feel just a tiny bit better - 

The gorilla grunted and suddenly, instead of just barreling through the trees by swinging vine to vine, they were going up. Charles let out a scream of pure terror.

"Eriiiiik!" Charles screeched, his voice going up in pitch as the gorilla threw him into the air, his body weightless for a moment, before catching him again. "LET ME GO! ERIK!"

"Charles!" Erik yelled again, but it was faint, so hopelessly faint, and Charles let out another wail as he tried kicking his legs aimlessly. He realized maybe that he shouldn't be telling it to let him go for he'd most definitely die if it did, but Charles didn't care. There was nothing else he could say.

And then the ground disappeared entirely, completely hidden from sight by the understory. Charles began to hyperventilate.

"Oh my God, oh my God, no, no, no! ERIK!" Charles sobbed, his chest being held back by the strong arm across his chest, keeping him pinned to the ape's body. Charles tried to turn his head but he was locked tightly against the primate's rib cage, which dug into Charles' back, and his abdominal muscles rubbed against his posterior. Charles' eyes widened suddenly, and he gasped. 

Gorillas didn't have protruding rib cages, nor defined abdominal muscles. But humans did.

Charles promptly passed out after that.

 

When he woke up again, his body was rested against the trunk of a tree. Charles thought first to get up and look around, thinking he was on the ground and not seventy feet in the air. He swung his legs over the side before he screamed, looking at the trees below.

"Shh," something whispered. The sound did not seem very natural to it. Charles looked around, bewildered, to see a man staring wide-eyed at him. Charles was about to take another breath to scream and his muscles began to tense up for a flight or fight response, but the man came closer and Charles merely went rigid, his eyes open wide and his lips parted in shock. The man was balancing his body on his fists, which was odd, Charles noted, and had his chest puffed out. It didn't look like his hair had ever been cut, but it was well-maintained from grooming and washing; not greasy in the slightest. However, his body was worn and almost blackened through years of hardship, Charles guessed. 

Charles' gaze drifted downward, as was the only natural thing to do.

The man was completely naked, save for a very worn, almost faded necklace that had a small circle with an imprinted 'H' in the middle. It couldn't have been made here. Charles filed it in the back of his mind for later. 

Charles's eyes drifted over the defined planes of his chest, very muscular to the point where he was almost bulky. It was more than Erik; to say the least. Not that he was comparing. He wasn't. Now wasn't the time, because he was in a tree with a very handsome-bizarre, Charles corrected himself, man-primate, more than fifty feet up in the air. 

Also Charles could clearly see his cock. His huge, monstrous cock.

Fucking hell, Charles breathed internally. It was bigger than Charles', and probably bigger than any man he'd ever encountered, rivaling Erik, even, and that man had to be at least seven and a half inches. Charles looked the man over again, from top to bottom to...well. 

By now the man was looking at him, like Charles was an alien species. Charles almost laughed, before his eyes traveled back to the man's face. He was looking him with those beautiful hazel eyes, glinting in the sunset. Charles sighed, barely audible. Out of all the creatures to have been captured by and put in a tree in the sky, Charles was glad it was this one.

It was getting darker now; he was walking towards to him like an ape would, his knuckles carrying his weight. He was slowly making his way towards him and Charles, despite his attraction, was a little afraid; but he let the ape man near him. If he hadn't killed him by now, Charles wasn't sure he would do it now.

The ape man began to smell him, at the point where his neck met his shoulder. Charles suddenly remembered he had his cologne on, a birthday present from Raven two years ago. Charles wasn't sure why he'd worn it on an expedition through the jungle, but he had. Maybe that had paid off.

“What do you want?” Charles asked the man softly, but the man just blinked, clearly not understanding. “I see,” He tried to be polite and offered his hand to a shake but the ape man just smelled his hand, bumping his fingers with his nose. 

“I am Charles,” he said, pointing himself, the ape man stilled and looked at him in total acknowledgement and smiled, the action somewhat mechanical.

“Charles!” he said, mimicking Charles completely. The ape pointed to him and said “Charles." 

The scientist smiled. “Yes, I am Charles.” He was thrilled he had been able to teach a word to an analphabet; it was exciting. He put his hand up to the his face so the ape man could see it. “Hand." The ape man looked at the hand as he slowly pushed his hand against the young noble’s hand. Charles could feel through his hands the tact of the naked man skin; he could tell that that man lived in this jungle for a very long time, and probably raised by apes, his fingers were bigger than his and thicker. He must have had to adapt by becoming one of them.

Charles wondered whether or not the man was born here. It seemed unlikely...though, how else could he have landed in Africa? The land was rarely explored, and was incredibly dangerous. However, that necklace around his neck aroused suspicions. Charles felt that the font was familiar, something he'd seen very recently. 

"Were you," Charles pointed to him, enunciating very clearly, "born...," Charles then pretended to cradle a baby, "here?" For that he pointed at the land below. The man crooked an eyebrow, and Charles sighed. "I guess that was a long-shot."

Charles felt more curious about him; he seemed harmless and totally approachable…even adorable, if Charles was to go that far. Maybe he could put clothes onto this man and take him to society and teach him there the ways of man, so many opportunities. That would be the ultimate experiment, though Charles wasn't sure it was exactly ethical.

"Who are you?" Charles pronounced each word singularly and accented. "Do you have a name?"

"Name," the man grunted, the word unfamiliar. "Name."

"Yes, what is your-"

Suddenly a gunshot rang out through the forest, and the man disappeared as quickly as he had taken Charles, leaving him in that tall tree all alone, except for the man or woman who had shot.

He prayed that it wasn't Erik, and he prayed that the man wasn’t hurt; but as many worries and concerns as Charles had, he stayed absolutely still and silent, hoping that the shooter wasn't trying to hit a target.


	2. The Mercenary

“I think we've lost my brother forever,” Raven whispered, distraught, walking behind Erik with her pistol ready and loaded. Erik felt incredibly vulnerable with the trigger-happy blonde behind him where he couldn't see her. Not that Raven wasn't a good shot, she was, but she was easily excitable with her gun. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll find Charles…I swear,” Erik growled under his breath, conviction lacing his tone. Raven audibly swallowed.

To think that almost an hour ago Charles had been at camp, safe and in plain sight. Now, he could be anywhere, and Erik didn't want to think about it. He'd been trained to expect the worst, and it hadn't bothered him until someone he actually might care about had gone missing in one of the most brutal places on the planet.

Fucking training. 

A shot rang out through the trees. Erik and Raven flinched, their shoulders raised to their ears as they heard the echo resonate throughout the forest. Birds squawked and flew away, spooked from the loud noise. Both explorers went running in the direction the birds were flying away from. Finally, Raven and Erik stopped in front of a blonde woman dressed in white leather with a comically large rifle, still smoking from the shoot.

“Well, well, it looks like I only meet humans today,” the woman said sarcastically. Her lips twisted into an unpleasant smile that made Erik's stomach flop. “Emma Frost, private mercenary” she said extending her hand to a shirtless Erik, who let it hover before she set it down with a glare. "And you are...? I don't believe there are any brothels here in Africa specializing in half-nude soldiers."

“Erik Lensherr, private explorer…just explorer actually, and keeper of the Xavier household,” Erik replied coolly, the brothel comment still stewing in his mind. "And the only things you're impressing with that attire are the gorillas."

“Impressive,” the woman said with a chuckle, to either Erik's introduction or snippy retort. “I just saved someone up there, I think he may belong to you.” 

She raised her head and shouted up at the tree, “You can come down now! Try not to hurt yourself!”

From the tree was heard the most pitiful cry Erik had ever heard, “I'm afraid I don't know h-how.”

Erik almost let out a sob of relief.

“Charles! Is that you?” he shouted as Raven clapped her hands over her mouth. 

“Yes!” cried the scientist, his voice sounding full of tears, but also of pure joy. "Erik, you won't believe-"

“Wait until I get you down, Charles,” Erik interjected, heading back for ropes. Meanwhile, Raven was clamped around Charles' whoreish savior like a vise, thanking the woman over and over. Emma looked deeply unsettled. Thankfully camp wasn't that far away from there, Erik thought as he sprinted back. He didn't like the woman's attitude, on top of the fact that she had a gun, and that she knew how to use it.

When Erik got back, he saw a figure rummaging through their supplies. 

 

“So...,” Emma said conversationally after Raven had detached herself from her. “How did a noble man from London get stuck here in a jungle tree? I don't suppose it was from trying to climb it.”

"Well, I don't think he could either-" Raven began, and laughed when she heard Charles' faint but still indignant 'excuse me!' from up in the trees. "Charles, you're a scientist. You aren't Erik, for God's sake, at least be able to admit defeat." 

"That's apparent," Emma mumbled, smirking as Raven snickered. As intimidating as this woman was, Raven enjoyed her presence. It wasn't often that she was able to meet another woman that could challenge Erik in a battle of wit and win. "About him. Is he always shirtless?"

"He's confident," replied Raven simply. "Not that it's a bad thing, either."

Emma chuckled. "No, it definitely isn't."

"He's a fairy," Raven blurted out immediately. Emma watched her out of the side of her eyes, amused. "But-I mean, just because-well. He is."

"Oh sugar, I know." Emma then turned and went up to the tree that Charles was in, not even visible through all of the leaves. "Darl', how did you get up there?"

“A man kidnapped me and left me up here," Charles called down. Raven, without seeing Charles, could tell when he suddenly became annoyed. "Well. I don't believe he would have left me up here if you hadn't shot at him."

“A man? Oh my, I really am in the right place," she murmured to herself, clicking her tongue. "Flint is going to be pleased to hear this."

“What?" Charles shouted. 

"Nothing, dear, just talking to myself," Emma replied, but her expression was something that Raven could only describe as evil. "Did this man...well, did he talk to you?"

Raven frowned. "What?"

"Kind of," Charles responded. "But not really."

"So is that a no, sugar?"

"Well...yes, that's a no," Charles said, and Raven wondered why it was so hard for him to answer. Either "the man" talked, or he didn't. How was there an in-between? Plus, that sentence was incredibly confusing, which was unlike Charles. He always knew how to phrase his words. The only other times she'd heard him like that was when he was drunk, and one instance where Erik had called him adorable. She wasn't sure where this situation fell.

“Hon, was the man...naked, per chance?” Emma laughed again.

"Yes!" Charles exclaimed. "How did you know?"

“You're sure?”

“Of course I'm sure! I was the one that see his...never mind, but, how-”

“I've found him," Emma breathed, not listening to the rest of Charles' sentence. Raven raised an eyebrow and hoped that whatever had captured Charles wasn't dangerous. Well more dangerous than kidnapping Charles and putting him in a tree. Emma began scribbling something in a notebook that appeared out of nowhere-the woman had no pockets or a bag to put it in. 

Erik finally came back with the rope, his shirt on...and another man.

"Who's that?" Raven asked incredulously, not being able to understand why there were two new people that just randomly appear, not counting the man that had apparently found Charles. It was almost overwhelming. "Who are you? Why-"

"I found him trying to steal our supplies. His name's-" Erik began lowly, dangerously, but the man cut him off by squeezing his shoulder in an almost sensual way. If Raven was paying incredibly close attention, she would've seen the way the German's chest stuttered as he inhaled. 

"Do I owe you or your family money?" the man asked, his Cajun accent drawling out in a purr. Raven looked at him warily. His long hair touched his shoulders, not restrained in any way. Stubble dotted his chin; he hadn't shaved for at least two days, maybe more. Explorer, probably. His apparel was ridiculous as well-he was dressed like he was going to a poker game in a sleazy town, not like he was in Africa. His hand was also trailing down Erik's back, dangerously close to his behind. Raven and Emma looked at each other warily before turning back to the man.

"No...," she said slowly. "At least, I don't think so."

"Good enough. The name's Remy Lebeau," he announced, his hand trailing off of Erik's shoulder-and all the way down his arm, Raven noted-as he stepped forward. He extended his hand. "Da pleasure's all mine, mon amie."

"Yeah, it is," Raven quipped with a breath of laughter, before ignoring the man entirely and turning to Erik. "Now get you and your French piece of ass over to that tree and get my brother down before he becomes a monkey."

Erik nodded dutifully and extracted two blades from each of his boots. Raven rolled her eyes as he proceeded to the tree and dug the knife into the bark of the tree, using his upper body strength to pull him up. The muscles in his biceps flexed gorgeously, and Raven flinched as she saw both Remy and Emma lick their lips.

Raven was absolutely incapable of thinking of Erik in any sexual way. Sure, she could appreciate his body, and she knew he was fatally handsome and good-looking, but they'd grown up together. They'd slept in the same bed; wrestled together; they'd even seen each other naked more than once. He was more of a brother than something Raven could drool over. Charles, on the other hand...

Maybe it was because they were both gay and inclined to look at each other like that, or in the times that Raven hadn't been present they'd done something to turn their relationship awkward, but recently Charles could barely touch Erik without his eyes glazing over for a moment. And Charles seemed to have the exact same effect, but either Erik had more experiences with that type of thing, or he could hide his attraction very well. Both, perhaps.

At any rate, Raven wasn't sure Erik's incredible muscle capacity could last long enough for him to climb up the tree like that and come back down with Charles. And, as captivated by the show as he was, neither was Remy.

"Erik, magnifique," the man cooed, walking up to Erik and placing a hand on his back. Erik visibly shivered. Raven clicked her tongue in annoyance. "There's an easier way ta do dis. Unless ya like it harder...then by all means, do continue."

"Oh come on," Raven said, "certainly you're smoother than that."

"Seemed pretty smooth to me," Erik mumbled as he dropped back down onto the ground. Remy grinned back at Raven, who stuck her tongue out at him. 

“I like old weapons…,” Remy mused ominously, snatching the rope from Erik's shoulder. He unstrapped his bow from his back and produced an arrow from his leather quiver. "Ya see, they were made by folks that didn't have the knowledge we do now. An' that makes them easier to use."

"I don't know if that logic makes sense-" Raven began, but Erik shushed her. She raised an eyebrow at him and he gritted his teeth, and gave her a look that Raven could only describe as 'please'. This day just kept getting stranger and stranger.

Remy tied the end of the rope to the arrow, right before the fletching, and pulled it tight. He then found a protruding root of the tree and tied the other end around that. 

"Dat should work," Remy mumbled to himself before he took the bow in hand and pulled the bowstring taut, aiming the arrow through the leaves. Everyone held their breath. Then his fingers released it, and the arrow went flying into the trees. Charles shrieked, and Erik grabbed Remy, ready to pummel him.

"He's fine, Erik!" Remy assured him, and for good measure, yelled, "Ya all righ' up dere?"

"Y-Yes!" came the timid reply.

"See?" Remy said smugly. "All good."

“Tie da rope aroun' da strongest tree branch an' den use da rope ta come down,” Remy called up. "Don' hurt yerself."

Charles did as instructed quickly, quivering when he came into sight. Erik studied the rope intently, watching Charles if he'd fall so he would catch him. Charles came down and was reunited with his sister and best friend, crushing them both in a massive hug as he shivered in their embrace.

Emma pulled Charles away from Raven's shoulder harshly, making Erik growl.

“Now Mister Xavier, did you see this ape man?” she asked coolly.

“I already told you: yes,” Charles replied, confused. He looked towards Remy and saw his bow. "You must be the one who shot the arrow! Thank you - "

“Are you injured?” Emma interjected again, her voice sharp and demanding. Charles turned back to her and cleared his throat.

“No, I am fine,” Charles said convincingly to the blonde woman. Emma cocked her head to the side, her eyes contemplative.

“Odd, he usually doesn't usually leave them intact.” Her last three words were unusually punctuated, causing a chill to run up Charles' spine.

“How do you know that?” Erik asked holding Charles closer again, while Remy smirked and looked somewhere near Erik's ass. Raven tsked at him, and he grinned at her. Emma paid no attention.

“I don’t have time to explain, I have to set up my own camp...maybe tomorrow I can tell you.” Emma looked at Remy and held out her hand. "Come along, Remy."

“Or maybe we can camp with them, cher, if they don’t mind,” Remy said, looking lustfully at Erik. Erik raised an eyebrow and to Charles' surprise/dismay, his lips turned up slightly in a tight-lipped, suggestive smile. That only made the shorter scientist hug Erik harder.

“We certainly do not mind,” Charles said, despite the way Remy was staring at Erik, and looked at Raven, who nodded in response, “You can camp with us.”

 

They walked back together through the jungle to the Xavier’s camp, while Remy was putting up an extra tent they'd brought along, Emma was near the fire with Charles. Erik stepped beside Remy to help him pitch the tent. 

“You were shirtless when ya caught me here," Remy said, his voice sultry and low. Erik steeled himself against it, clenching his jaw against a full-body shiver. "Ya always walk around half-naked?"

"You wish," Erik retorted, tying one rope around a stake in the ground. 

"Ya got me dere, belle," winked Remy, running his hand down the inside of Erik's thigh before standing back up to work on the other side. Erik blinked hard against the temptation to drag him into the half-pitched tent right then and there. Whether that was to fuck him or fuck him up, Erik wasn't sure, but the sentiment was near the same in terms of ferocity.

All he had to do to avoid that was to look at Charles, who was organizing his books in a stack on a wooden box. They made eye contact, and Charles beamed at him in the awkward, boyish way he always did. Erik smiled back, his threatening all-teeth no-lip smile. He must've been staring at the ground for a while after for Remy tapped him on the shoulder.

"You all righ', beau?" he asked, sitting on the ground next to him. Erik jerked away. "Ya look like you've jus' seen da mos' beautiful woman in yer life."

"No," Erik snapped, cheeks and neck aflame, "I haven't. And why must you always call someone a pet name in French?"

"Gives people a thing to 'member bout me, I guess," Remy said, and Erik was startled by the truth behind his words. It wasn't even flirtatious. Erik shrugged.

"All right," he agreed, his voice contemplative. "Why are you here?"

"I think Emma would explain that better than I, cher," chuckled Remy. Erik shook his head. "I didn't realize this was the time for askin' each other questions. My turn."

"Fine," Erik said.

"You're queer, righ'?" Remy looked over at him more hopefully than he had posed the question as. Erik nodded.

"You?" Erik asked.

"I guess I wasn't bein' obvious enough," sniggered Remy. "Of course. And your secret's safe with me, beau, if you don't want anyone else knowin'."

Erik smiled and shook his head, and decided that maybe, after all, Remy was worth more than a fuck.

 

Emma was helping Raven to cook dinner-some sort of animal carcass, it was disgusting to handle either way-when Charles gestured to her over by a wooden box away from the others. She took a quick scan of the surroundings first. Erik and Remy-no surprise-were talking and smiling at each other more animatedly than one would expect, especially if one of the participants was Remy. The treeline looked clear, and the stars were twinkling overhead. It really was late.

Emma walked over to the box where Charles was sitting. He smiled, then his expression sobered.

“Why do you say he was dangerous?” he asked quietly. Emma smirked and crossed her legs.

“Because he is dangerous. I was paid to kill an ape man that has been killing explorers...or so I have been told, at least. And when I saw you, I realized there was only one way that you could've gotten up there. I saved you from a monster, Mister Xavier.” Emma looked back towards Raven, who eyed her suspiciously. It was a look she got often.

“He is not a monster,” protested Charles. "He saved me."

“Darling he is the reason you were up there in the first place…or don't you remember?” Emma said. Charles scoffed.

"He was caring.”

“He captured you and put you in a tree. I was the one that saved you, sugar,” reminded Emma, putting a hand on the Englishman's shoulder. "Even for a male, you really are the damsel of this group."

“I am the scientist, mind you," Charles hissed, even that sounding non-threatening. Emma laughed.

“You can’t take care of yourself. I am not saying that to insult you, Mister Xavier, but I do need to get paid...you'd be the perfect lure for the beast. Tarzan is a danger and you can help me bring him down for good.” Emma swung her hair over her shoulder and stood up, walking in the direction of the cooking pit and Raven. She suddenly felt a hand enclose her wrist.

“He is not a monster. And you will not kill him.” Emma turned around to see Charles' face, infuriated and almost murderous, despite his words. "He is harmless."

“Like a baby lion? Because even they grow up to be four-hundred pound brutes. There are always two sides to a coin, Charles. Once you introduce this man to society, you'll see how truly monstrous he is.”

Emma didn't turn around to look at Charles' face, but she was sure it wasn't as pretty and serene as it had been. 

She prided herself on her ability to do that.

 

"What is this?" Remy whined as he poked it with his fork. The meat on his plate was charred on one side and almost pink on the other.

"Chicken," Raven and Emma responded, Emma sounding more tired than Raven's skeptical tone. 

"Why?" Erik asked. Remy felt his warmth radiate off of him from the way his knee was pressed into his. He also felt the burn of the scientist's-Charles, apparently-gaze boring holes in his skull. He wasn't sure why, but Remy had a feeling that he was doing something wrong.

Which only fueled his want to keep doing it.

If Remy was attractive, Erik was god-like. Never before had Remy ever seen a man so gorgeous. His chiseled jawline could cut glass, and his piercing stare made Remy feel like Erik was peering into his soul with every glance. He'd been to Paris, New Orleans, London, all over, and there was no man that had ever looked as devastatingly handsome as Erik Lehnsherr.

That was probably the only reason Remy allowed himself to be caught at all.

The man's body was so defined, even without his shirt off, it made Remy want to drop to his knees and-

Well. Perhaps it wasn't exactly appropriate. But then again, Remy never really was.

"It's...well," Remy set his plate in his lap and tried to gesture with his hands. "You didn't cook it long enough. Also, it's unseasoned, which makes it terribly bland. Oh, and-"

"If I remember correctly, we invited you to our camp," Raven said lowly. 

"I'm Cajun. I'm a perfectionist when it comes to this type of thing," protested Remy. "And I really appreciate-"

"He's right, though," Erik interjected. "It's kind of inedible. Though, I can't really be surprised..."

"You were fine with it ten seconds ago," Charles said quietly, his brow furrowed, but he hadn't touched his plate either. Remy looked at the ground and bit his lip; this wasn't going to be pretty.

"Sure, but I'm not going to be the first one to insult Raven's culinary skills," Erik pointed out, and even Charles had to nod in agreement.

"Oh, fuck off, I'm great in the kitchen," Raven snapped. "Actually, I let Emma-"

"I'm not getting into this," said Emma, her tone calm and collected despite the rising tension. Erik glared at her.

"You might as well, seeing that you almost shot Charles and are in our camp," he hissed. Charles opened his mouth to protest but Erik shut him down with a stern look. "I heard what you said about using Charles as bait. We're here on scientific exploration, and if your need to kill this ape-man-thing is going to put any one of us in danger-"

"Erik," Remy began. He stilled when Erik placed his hand on his knee. Charles flushed.

"I suggest-" Erik tried to start again.

"Erik!" Charles interjected, danger in his voice. "That's enough."

"-that you leave," Erik finished lowly. 

 

Charles stood up, put his plate on the log he was sitting on and grabbed Erik by the shoulder and dragged him farther away from the rest.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" he whispered, jabbing his finger into his chest. "These people saved me-"

"These people want to use you for their own monetary gain," Erik retorted. "You heard Emma. She wants to use you to lure the thing-"

"He is not a thing!" Charles yelled, done with the quiet volume they'd been using earlier. "He is a man, Erik, more of a man than that French leech that is hanging off your side-"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Erik shouted, and they heard Raven's hearty: "All right! Who's sleeping where?" in response to his volume and words.

"What the hell do you think it means, Erik? We're here in Africa, something all of us have always dreamed of, and here you are just desperate for another fuck." Charles sneered at him, an ugly, ugly face to see upon such beautiful features, before leaving Erik at the edge of the clearing to go back to the others.


	3. Your hand upon my hand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik wakes up-and Charles' tent is empty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, it's the _other_ author, though I'm really more of a beta to be honest :P Anyway, I'm alexavindr! I just wanted to say that you should KEEP GIVING EMMA SUPPORT BECAUSE SHE'S SO AWESOME AND SWEET!! The only reason there's been a delay in chapter updates is really my fault; I'm a slow writer, but Emma has been so amazing through this entire thing. But don't worry: this will finish, one way or another! 
> 
> Also, I would just like to clarify that even though everyone refers to Logan as Tarzan, this doesn't mean Logan is named Tarzan. Tarzan is more or less his title, while Logan is his real name. Just keep that in mind. REMEMBER: TARZAN = LOGAN, LOGAN ≠ TARZAN
> 
> So, without further ado, the third chapter of Till I meet you!
> 
> yayy

Erik woke up in the dead of night, hopping out of the tent to look around at his surroundings. He could see the shadow of Raven sleeping in her tent through the flickering light of the fire, her form rising and falling with her breath. He nodded absently and looked to his right.

Remy's tent was less visible, being farther away from the fire and therefore darker. Erik squinted, but he could see the outline of the Cajun. 

Erik looked to his left and his heart sunk to the bottom of his chest, like a deflated hot air balloon. Charles' tent. 

They'd gone to bed without speaking after the fight, Charles more sullen than usual. Erik knew this was mostly his fault but he couldn't shake the feeling that Charles had gotten himself into something he shouldn't have, whether that was his fault or not. What he did know was that Emma was not some random hunter, and to an even further extent, neither was Remy. But in order to figure out exactly who they were he needed to keep them around for longer. 

That ape thing - Charles insisted it was a man - was obviously the root of this entire problem, Erik knew. Charles was friends with it - Erik didn't know how else to label their relationship - Emma wanted to kill it, and Erik just wanted it gone. He guessed that Charles wanted to study the ape-man-thing, as he did with everything. He had always been like that. Erik was even sure that was why Charles kept _him_ around, to study _him._ Until now, Erik hadn't minded, mostly because Charles had spent a lot of time "studying" him, and Erik rather liked being the center of _someone's_ attention. This expedition, on the short time they'd been on it, had changed that.

Erik sighed and walked back to the fire. He sat down on one of the empty boxes and listened to the jungle, the sounds of the bugs and the frogs.

He was beginning to feel rather relaxed when someone put a hand on his shoulder. He tensed when he craned his neck around to look at Emma, clad in her white trousers and bra. She probably knew he wasn't inclined to look at her body like that based on the way she was dressed, or maybe she just didn't care. Erik figured it was a mixture of both. "Couldn't sleep?"

"Not really," answered Erik.

"Mm. The jungle is too noisy for my taste anyway," Emma said, sitting on the box opposite next to him. "What do you think of this whole man-ape thing?"

"You won't use Charles for whatever you're doing," Erik hissed. Emma smiled cruelly. "You _won't."_

"Sugar, this thing is dangerous." Emma swept her hair off her shoulder in a languid twist of her neck. "It may be our only option if we are to capture and kill it."

"It might not have to be killed," argued Erik in a low voice. "What if we just leave it alone?"

"Wasn't that what you were doing when it captured Charles and almost killed him?" Emma countered smoothly. Erik grimaced. "Exactly. It won't leave us alone, no matter what you do. That is why it must be exterminated."

"You don't have to use Charles," Erik said, his voice faltering. "He didn't do anything to deserve that. It could kill him in the process."

"Well, Charles doesn't seem to have any problem with going out there alone," Emma laughed, a creeping, light laugh that made Erik instinctively look towards Charles' tent. His blood froze as she nodded. Erik got up and sprinted to Charles' tent, ripped open the flaps and let out a broken noise as he found an empty cot.

“Charles?" He dragged his hands through his hair raggedly and dropped to his knees, strewing the blankets about. “Where is he?”

Emma appeared behind him.

“I was going to ask you the same question, seeing that you care about him so much."

“Shut-he could _die,_ you _bitch!"_ Erik got up and tackled her to the ground, his hands on her shoulders, digging them into the dirt. Her face twisted into that of disgust. "Did you use him? Do you know where he is?"

“Well, I know where he isn't.” She looked at him sarcastically as he snarled and dug his fingers into her shoulders even harder. “Do I need to save your damsel in distress, or you will do it?”

“He is not a damsel in distress," Erik growled menacingly.

“No? Then what is he? Your toy? Your lover that dragged you into the jungle? How could he be more than a burden for any explorer? The only way that he wouldn't be was if he sleeps in your bed-"

“Shut the fuck _up-"_

“It's true, isn't it? Your Charlie shouldn't be here. I mean, look at him, he's already running off with the wildlife."

“He is not my Charlie and he is not...he's just trying to study it, he's a scientist," argued Erik in a weak tone. "You'll see. He'll grow tired with it soon enough."

"Are you sure you're talking about the ape, or yourself?" Emma asked, to which Erik let her go and got up. Remy was behind him with Raven by his side. "Looks like we have company."

"Charles is gone?" Raven said worriedly. Erik dragged his hand over his face. "Oh God."

“We'll find him, Raven, don't worry," Erik answered. Remy walked up to Erik and put his hand on his back comfortingly. Erik melted into the touch.

"He'll be fine, cher, you should stop worrying as well," said the Cajun softly. Emma snorted. 

"What?" Raven asked.

"Nothing," Emma answered.

Erik scowled and glared at Emma, stone-cold and dark.

“Find it. I don't care how you fucking do it, just find it." Emma's eyes lit up. A sickening feeling settled in Erik's stomach.

“Why didn't you just ask, sugar?"

 

 Charles walked wearily down the path he was sure he'd traveled at least half a dozen times; he had forgotten the importance of Erik’s machete…he'd forgotten the importance of Erik in general.

The man's image and voice had seared its way into Charles' mind, not letting him sleep for an instant. Emma's words had solidified Charles' need to find him. “Hello? Uh, um-" Charles wished he knew his name. Then, he remembered Emma saying his name was "Tarzan". "Tarzan! It's me, Charles! Tarzan!"

He backed up, looking into the trees, and yelped as he found himself in a spiderweb. Charles sprinted away, shrugging off the silky substance. When Charles was sure it was gone, he shivered.

He had to find the man, warn him somehow, warn him about Emma and Remy. Tarzan was a good natured creature; Charles could tell. And when Charles felt something as strongly as that, it was usually true. He wasn't going to let Tarzan get shot.

“TARZAN!” he screamed to the trees, hoping to be heard.

Something heard him and it was huge, it was a gorilla, its silhouette dark and bulky.

“My god,” Charles whispered. He didn't have Tarzan, or Erik, or anything that he could use to defend himself. He was utterly unarmed and small, pitted against a large primate. Charles whimpered when something touched his neck. It was warm, and somewhat rough. Charles turned his neck slightly, his voice caught in his throat.

It was an elephant. He was going to drop dead then and there with just that, but then a chimpanzee came out of nowhere and clung onto his chest.

The following event was something Charles would never admit: he fainted.

 

He felt that he was being carried, the ground beneath him swaying to and fro, and his face was pressed against something warm and soft. He regained his full consciousness immediately and sighed when he saw Tarzan, smiling at him happily.

“Charles,” he said with a laugh.

“Tarzan,” he replied, relieved and befuddled. He slowly ran his fingers up and down Tarzan’s chest just to let him know he was okay, so the bigger man let him on his feet, but still held his hand.

“I am fine Tarzan,” Charles reassured him, touching the man’s cheek with his hands. The gesture was appreciated and Tarzan nuzzled the hand against his cheek. Charles blushed again at how gentle and caring Tarzan was without knowing that it was supposed to be comforting at all, how he somehow just knew that it would make Charles feel better. There was no way that Tarzan was the monster Emma had described.

“Home,” Tarzan said to Charles as the entered a clearing, pointing to the animals around him. Charles thought that the man knew something of their language, maybe he came here when he was little and then forgotten it all of it…maybe he triggered the language response in him, this was so exciting. But more importantly, and further more exciting…his home was with the jungle animals.

“Tantor,” he said pointing to the elephant, “Cheeta” he said looking at the chimpanzee, “Mom” he said at the gorilla, “Numa” he said at…the panther, an actual _leopard,_ “Sabor” a panther...Tarzan was full of surprises; Charles' mind went from amazement to logic as he realized there is no way this could have happened, because those animals were in different places of the alimentary chain, they couldn't be together without hurting each other. This was impossible. Unless the story of Noah and that immense boat was true, that didn't make any sense. Logic before beliefs, he reminded himself.

“Family?” Charles asked.

Tarzan nodded.

Cheeta came to him with a banana, holding it sweetly out in front of her.

“Oh! I see,” he said talking the banana from the chimpanzee, “Banana for breakfast, I hadn’t tried that, I usually just have tea.”

Tarzan perked up at the sound of that, the sound probably appealing. "Tea?" he repeated. Charles smiled.

“Yes, tea, you put it in hot water and it gives it taste.” Tarzan looked confused, yet again. Another long shot he made, the chances of Tarzan understanding anything about his culture were so slim. “Don’t worry; in time you'll understand.”

Tarzan smiled at him with eagerness. He probably wasn't understanding some of the words that Charles was saying. but he seemed to like Charles anyways. He put his hand out to reach out for Charles, touching his chest. He looked at him curiously, as if asking for an answer.

 _Oh!_ Charles thought, and grinned.

“Hand.” Charles covered Tarzan's worn and calloused hand with his own, over his heart. It was warm and rough, but also cool at the same time. Tarzan made a noise reminiscent to purring.

Tarzan grabbed Charles' hand and guided it to his head.

"Hair," Charles laughed. Tarzan grinned. _What a beautiful smile,_ Charles thought wistfully.

“Hair,” Tarzan responded.

“Yes,” Charles confirmed.

Tarzan took his left hand by the wrist and brought it to his own chest.

“Hair?" he asked. Charles flushed.

“Er, well," Charles stuttered, such a thing he never really thought or talked about, "yes. Hair." Charles let his gaze follow his hand, pale among the dark curls. "Quite a lot of it, actually." He almost giggled.

How childish of him.

Tarzan let go of Charles' hand and, to Charles' surprise, skirted up his shirt. Charles yelped.

"Hair?" he said again. Charles blushed even further, his breathing becoming more labored as Tarzan's weathered fingertips scraped gently across his unblemished, hairless skin.

"No," Charles wheezed. "Not all-not all of us have it there. Tarzan-"

Tarzan lowered his hand, and Charles released the breath he hadn't known he'd been holding with a _whoosh_. Charles reddened completely, from his cheeks, to the tips of his ears, even to his collarbones. Tarzan took a moment to brush his hand over his clavicles, but not for long, before he took Charles' hand in his hand and guided it to his-

“Oh goodness," Charles gasped when he felt the coarse hair directly above Tarzan's-well. _That_ sizable member that had played its part in not letting Charles sleep either. Charles squeaked; he was full of undignified noises when it came to this man putting his hand in places it probably didn't belong.

“Hair?" Tarzan repeated, somehow more teasing this time. The bastard _knew_. Of course Tarzan was smart enough to realize how uncomfortable Charles was.

"Yes, yes, it's hair, it's-Jesus, yes," Charles gulped, trying to resist the urge to let his hand trail downwards.

"Cheeta, hair," Tarzan said. He made large gestures with his arms.

"Oh, well, that's because she's a chimpanzee," Charles explained, knowing that Tarzan probably wouldn't understand anyway.

“Chim…chimp…”

“Don’t worry, you’ll get to it. She is furrier than you because you aren't like her." Charles smiled at Tarzan, then remembered the real reason as to why he was here. Not just for getting to know Tarzan better. This was much less fun.

"Tarzan...hunters are after you," he whispered. Tarzan's brow furrowed. He could probably tell by the look in Charles' eye that this was not a good thing.

“Hunters?” he said, the pronunciation skewed but resembling the actual word nonetheless.

“Yes, Tarzan hunters, they kill...they want to take this from you," Charles explained, deciding not to tell Tarzan the horrible extent of it just yet. He expanded his arms to the trees and all the animals, then hugged them to his chest. Tarzan seemed to understand-and began to glare at Charles.

“No no no, not me, not _Charles,"_ said Charles quickly, patting the air. Tarzan watched him. "Hunters...not Charles."

“Not...Charles," Tarzan grunted in response.

“Yes, yes. I...Tarzan...," he murmured. "You have to be careful. They...they..."

Tarzan looked at him, anticipatory, as if he could tell he was holding on to something.

“They want to kill you, Tarzan.”

Tarzan went silent and broke their eye contact. He looked to the trees, then back at Charles.

“You should leave, just for a while," Charles whispered. "For your safety. I don't want you to get hurt."

“Charles," he said gently, stroking his cheek just as softly. "Charles."

“Tarzan, please..."

“Charles, family,” Tarzan said firmly.

Charles thought that the gesture was so tender, and Charles thought that there was a possibility that maybe he could prove that Tarzan was not the monster everyone was making him out to be, but Charles knew that it probably wasn't possible.

“I promise I'll see you soon," Charles said.

“Promise?”

“Yes, Tarzan; I _promise.”_

“Promise!” he reassured him talking his hand in his big ones.

“I promise. Now run, Tarzan, run.”

Tarzan made a strange calling sound that made all the animals leave with him. Charles smiled weakly, conflicted between his sadness to see the man leave and his relief that he would be safe when he was gone. 

He heard leaves rustling, and he knew what that meant, now that all the other animals were gone. Charles sucked in a breath as Erik hugged him tightly to his chest. He froze when he felt that chest stutter as it breathed.

 _Oh,_ Charles thought. He'd been thinking that a lot recently.

“Are you okay, Charles?” Erik whispered, concern lacing his tone. Charles sighed back into him.

“I'm fine, Erik," he replied. Erik let out a shuddering exhale.

Erik looked a bit bitter and more brooding than normal, and he took him by the arms and tried to explain. “He is a danger to us, don’t you understand? He _kills people,_ he would kill _you_. Emma was paid to kill a murderer. Can’t you see? This thing is not as humane as you think it is,” Erik hissed, his throat bobbing as he did so. Charles thought he might be on the verge of tears. Charles let out a soft noise. “He is a monster, and I want to keep you safe. And I will not lose you over a man that kills, Charles, not when I can protect you."

“Listen to your lover, sugar, he's right." Emma peered over Erik's shoulder with a grimace.

“He is not my lover," Charles said firmly. Erik looked away. "And Tarzan is _not_ a killer, he even talks a little. If you had been here with me you both would have seen how harmless he is, what a gentle and tender creature he is. He is the most polite thing I have ever seen...given his education, of course.”

Erik held Charles closer. “Promise me you will not do this again, please," begged the taller man.

“I'm sorry Erik, but I promised him that I would see him again. And he  _lives_ with gorillas, chimpanzees, elephants, and  _panthers._ I could study panthers, living _panthers_ , Erik without the risk of being killed…because he would be there with me."

Erik grimaced and his face turned from relieved to venomous. “You are coming with me.”

“I am right behind you Erik,” Emma said. She looked at the sky. "Good; at least saved the damsel before breakfast. I hope Raven isn't cooking again."

Charles growled, deep in the back of his throat.

“I already told you I am not a damsel in distress; I can take care of myself till Tarzan…” Erik sneered at the name, squeezing Charles' arm, "…till Tarzan…” and again, “Erik would you stop that? You are hurting me. Till Tarzan meets me.”

“Let’s get to camp, then will talk about this Mister Xavier.” Emma tossed her hair over her shoulder, something that Charles had seen her done a lot in the short amount of time he'd known her.

"Come on, Charles," Erik grumbled, "let's go."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Leave a kudo or comment to show your appreciation - and stay tuned for more gays in the jungle! I'm excited, personally. It's going to pretty queer.
> 
> If you couldn't tell by the relationship tags already, anyway.


	4. Deal with the Devil's Mercenary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Charles angers Erik and confuses Raven again, and figures out just how dangerous and important Emma and Remy really are, to both the expedition, his family, and the expedition itself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAPPY 37th BIRTHDAY, JAMES MCAVOY! HAVE ANOTHER CHAPTER OF TILL I MEET YOU ASDFGHKL
> 
> It's alexavindr, the girl who should not be this pumped up about a man who she does not know but loves unconditionally and treats like a son and father simultaneously. Welp! I am this pumped up, and I'm not the only one. 
> 
> So for those of you who are surprised every time we post a chapter, don't be. Emma has four chapters more written than I've edited, and this chapter was cut in half. So we've got nine chapters basically lined up already. Do not fret! More of Charles being a confused, blustering jungle explorer with men hanging off of both arms will arrive!

“Charles!” Raven exclaimed, sprinting towards her brother who was being held in a vise-like grip by Erik. He let him go only when she stared at him. His jaw was set and his teeth gritted together as the young scientist let himself be strangled by his sister. "I was so _scared-"_

"You shouldn't have been, I was fine," Charles assured her with a laugh, "I _am_ fine."

"You've got bags under your eyes," Erik said, causing Charles to turn around with his eyebrows raised, "your shirt is torn in two different places. You've got a scrape on your right cheekbone and two leaves in your hair. You're out of breath. Your trousers-"

"Tarzan is the most interesting creature Raven! He can communicate with animals-all kinds, it's amazing! And he is so gentle and kind and he wants to learn…oh, Raven, he is  _fascinating,"_ Charles interjected and turned back to Raven. Erik's mouth hung open, cut off mid-sentence. His eyes clouded with anger.

Raven reached towards Charles' forehead with the back of her hand, pressing it to his face. She frowned and flipped it to her palm. “No fever, no bumps; I think he is all right…but why isn’t my brother making sense?” She looked at Erik pointedly for an explanation.

“Probably because some crazy ape monster attacked him," Erik spat out. Charles laughed.

“Let’s not forget naked, Erik,” Charles added with an angry, but somehow amused smile at Erik’s steely expression. "Completely, utterly _naked-"_

“That’s it, Charles, you're going back to Westchester." Erik grabbed him by the arm and began to drag him back to the tents in his iron hold. "Back to your goddamn parents and fucking idealistic science mates. C'mon." Charles hissed angrily as he dug his heels into the ground.

“Let go of me, Erik!" he growled.

“Like hell I will," Erik retorted with just as much fire. Raven stepped forward to intervene, but Emma held her back. The scientist's sister wriggled in the woman's grasp.

“Erik," Charles began when he saw that Erik wasn't going to let him go, “just...you need to _meet_ him first, I swear he's not a murderer.” Erik swallowed as Charles' intense blue gaze bore into his. He was always powerless against those eyes, both the determination and beauty combined made him surrender.

Erik's grip loosened, and Charles smiled.

“You're not going alone," Erik said hoarsely. "And by God if you do this again I _will_ send you back-"

“I won't, I won't, but...," Charles bit his lip. "He's wary of anyone that is not me, at the moment. He hasn't had much human exposure and it may be too soon to introduce him to you, especially since...well. You're more of a threat than I am."

“I'm not going to lose you to this goddamn jungle if I have the power," Erik reiterated, firm and final. Charles opened his mouth, and Erik's eyes set ablaze.

Emma let go of Raven and stomped over to the two men. "Stop. Erik, Charles is right."

_"What?"_ Erik and Raven exclaimed in unison.

"Tarzan would have killed Charles by now if he were dangerous. Charles actually _went into_ his nesting area, with his permission. If this man was really truly a danger...he would have proved it by now." Emma looked over at Erik with a blank expression. "I understand your concern for Charles, though I do not believe it is necessary. As long as Tarzan comes to him, I don't see why we can't...let him stick around."

"Wait just a minute!" Charles shouted suddenly. Everyone except Emma spooked. "You're the one who wants him _dead._ What you're saying is that I'm not allowed to see him unless he comes to _me,_ which ultimately means to the end of your _rifle._ _"_

Emma chuckled. "Sugar, you think too lowly of me."

"It's a never-ending plummet to the bottom with you, _Miss Frost,"_ Charles hissed. "I will not have you-" he paused and looked pointedly at Erik, "-or you, decide what I do. This is _my_ expedition, which means _my_ choices. I don't care if you think those choices will keep me safe. In fact, Miss Frost, you're not even worried about my safety. You're worried about the size of your wallet."

Both Erik and Raven were taken aback by how strongly Charles was antagonizing the other blonde woman. Never in their lives had they seen Charles so _angry,_ not even when Raven had accidentally ruined his science project or when Erik had ruined his chances with a girl he'd liked. Charles was _livid_ now, and they didn't know how to react other than stand and watch their step-brother tear Emma apart.

“I believe in this just as much as you do, Mister Xavier-" Emma began coolly, but Charles raised a hand and cut her off.

"I'm only letting you stay in my camp because you seem to know more about Tarzan than I do. If you refuse to disclose this information I will not hesitate to remove you and Remy from it." Charles' eyes, instead of determined and deep as the sea they had sailed across to get there, were fiery, _raging._ Erik swallowed, but Emma merely smiled like the cat that got the cream. Charles' eyebrows furrowed in confusion to her expression.

"Mister Xavier," she tittered, her head tilting forward, "I do not think you realize who I am. I am a close affiliate with the man that is funding this entire expedition. One word to him and you'd be sent back home...no Tarzan in London, I believe. Not warm enough."

"You're...," Charles began, faltering.

"What does she mean, the man funding this expedition? I thought we funded this," Raven said quizzically. "Charles?"

"I haven't been entirely honest with you love, I'm sorry," Charles whispered. He turned around and took Raven's hands as Erik stared at Emma with an expression of disbelief. "Father didn't exactly...leave money for us to do this, when he died."

"But Sharon-" Raven started.

"Sharon...she..." Charles grunted to clear his throat. "Kurt's taken control of her more than we thought."

"Kurt? The fucking bloke who married Sharon?" Erik turned around. "What do you mean?"

"It's a very complicated story," sighed the scientist, "I swear I will tell you all later. I need to resolve this."

"We're not a priority, but saving your goddamn monkey man _lover_ is?" Erik spat exasperatedly. "What the _fuck,_ Charles." He turned and started walking towards the camp with a stormy look on his face, his jaw set and clenched. Raven looked at Charles one more time before she too left him, jogging to catch up with her step-brother.

Charles turned around with a shaky breath to see Emma smiling too sweetly at him. "What are your terms." His voice was flat, no inflection, barely a question.

“I get to send all the information you gather on Tarzan in the next few months that you're here to my employer. If you retain this information, I will kill Tarzan and make sure your expedition is cut short. If you do everything I ask, no dead gorilla man, and you get to study the flora and fauna."

"What's there to make me think you won't kill him anyways?" asked Charles. Emma tilted her head to the side.

"Well, I guess there's always Remy," she said. Charles cocked his head to the side.

"What?"

"You mean you haven't seen the way he looks at Erik?" Emma exclaimed. Charles' throat went dry instantly. "They're practically _clinging_ off each other. Remy would probably have my head if Erik was sent back without...you know. Anything _happening._ Remy's going to take his time with Erik, I'm sure of it."

"You're sick," Charles whispered, rough. "Erik would never sleep with a psychopath's sidekick."

"Mm, no," Emma agreed all too brightly, "but I'm sure he'd sleep with Remy."

As she walked back to camp, her hips swaying, Charles ran into the bushes and retched until his stomach was empty.


	5. To Plant One in Its Place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Yet man does not recognize himself as an animal._
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> _\- Carolus Linnaeus_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Alexa why do you McFrickin' _suck_ at posting at regular intervals
> 
> Maybe because I'm a human bean with no sense of real time or organization? idk have some Cherik UST and wait five hundred years for the next chapter ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

Charles was sitting alone in his tent when Raven and Erik pulled apart the flaps and crouched inside, hugging their knees to their chests in order to make room for each other. He choked on his breath as he felt younger again, his adopted sibling and Erik both huddled close to him like they'd spent an hour making a fortress out of the pillows and blankets of one of the four-posters in the mansion.

"Hey," he whispered hoarsely. Raven smiled softly, ever-forgiving, while Erik merely looked at the ground, expressionless. "I'm sorry-"

"Tell us what's happening with Sharon and the funding," Erik said without emotion. Charles nodded slowly, mournfully.

"You both know that Kurt and Sharon were having an affair, of sorts, before Dad died." Charles looked up at Raven and Erik as they mouthed the word yes and bobbed their heads. The scientist sighed. "Well, Kurt persuaded Sharon into changing the will so that when Dad died he and his company would get most of it. She didn't tell us. I didn't find out until I tried to fund this, and found out I couldn't."

"Why didn't you tell us, then?" Erik asked.

"Because...because I thought I could handle this on my own," Charles said honestly, his voice cracking. If he got Sharon to change the will and sue Kurt for damages-both to his mother and his father's company-he could get some to most of the money back. It shouldn't have been as difficult as it turned out to be. "I didn't want you to have to worry."

That was apparently the complete wrong thing to say to Erik.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Charles, you're so naive," the ginger spat, crawling out of the tent quickly and angrily, throwing the tent flaps on top of the tent in his haste. Charles tried to choke out his name, but it caught on his tongue. An awful feeling gripped him as he watched Remy exit his own tent to walk over to Erik, who was at the edge of the clearing. It felt like a molten hot snake slithering down his throat, tightening around his heart and constricting its beating. Raven sighed.

"Charles." Her voice was tired, disappointed. Charles didn't know what to say. He didn't know why what he'd said, what he'd done, why it had made Erik so...not Erik. Or, at least, not the Erik that he was around Charles. Charles' Erik liked to laugh, to tease, to smile. Charles' Erik was happy and bright. The world's Erik was not Charles' Erik, and Charles felt that he had to protect him from it in order to keep him that way. "Charles, you know he's right."

"About what, Raven? I'm so confused," he whispered, looking past her and out the tent flaps, letting Charles see Erik and Remy talk, their heads bowed. He flinched when Remy touched Erik's back comfortingly, when Erik leaned into the touch. Fire bloomed behind Charles' eyelids; he suspected those were tears. Raven saw this and Charles' face.

"Oh, Charles," said Raven worriedly. Charles finally looked her in the eye. What he saw was understanding.

"What?"

Raven didn't answer, merely watched him pitifully for a few moments before her face hardened. "I don't think you should go after Tarzan either."

"Fucking hell, Raven," Charles groaned, "not you too."

"Charles, he's dangerous," Raven said firmly. Charles rolled his eyes. "He _is!"_

"He's less dangerous than Emma is, believe me," Charles fired back, watching Raven clench her fists. "I would be dead-"

"You wouldn't almost have died if he'd stayed away from you! He's done nothing but put you in harm's way, and you think he's protecting you by not letting you die when he's with you! You're smart enough to figure out on your own that he's not doing anything for you!" Raven whisper-shouted. "And all we're, Erik and I, your _family,_ are trying to do is keep you _safe._ But you push us away because you think we're the ones with the goddamn long-range rifle!"

"Well, at least you know who the real enemy is," Charles drawled without letting any of her words sink in. It was better that way. It wasn't like he didn't want to listen to Raven, but what she was saying was just a reiteration of what Erik had been saying, and Charles really didn't have the heart to listen to that from both his sister and his best friend. Besides, it wasn't like Raven hadn't done this before either, in fact, she did it constantly.

Sure, that was with matters of lesser stakes, but the principle was more or less the same.

"Fucking-Charles, you might _lose_ Erik over this. Your _best friend!_ The guy that was always there to dry your tears. What the hell are you going to achieve from this? Data? A new friend you'll leave after a year? Erik's not someone who loves unconditionally, Charles, and you're ensuring that he's not going to love you much at all." Raven's tone was final, Charles could hear it. He sighed. Raven jerked her thumb to Erik and Remy, who were now sitting against the tree, grinning and laughing like schoolboys, almost out of sight.

That used to be Charles with Erik, the one who could make him smile like that. It used to be only Charles that could make Erik look _that_ happy.

"You see that? _Remy's_ picking up the pieces. The pieces _you're_ leaving behind. What's going on between them isn't brotherly or platonic, Charles, and that's because there's no one there to change Erik's mind."

"You're saying that I'm the reason Erik is attracted to Remy," deadpanned Charles. "Not because Remy wouldn't be attractive otherwise, but because Erik's mad at me and he's rebelling. Because Erik hasn't always been off with some guy when I'm not around. You're right, Raven, this is all _my_ fault."

Raven looked at him, stunned. She huffed out an exasperated laugh. "You're an asshole."

She got up and left the tent, walking over to her own and grabbing her notebook to go sit by the fire. Charles looked down at his hands, shaking and too hot, realizing exactly what he'd just said.

"Fuck," he whispered brokenly. He watched Remy draw lazy circles in between Erik's clavicles, Erik smiling as Remy talked, and Emma sitting beside Raven, drinking whiskey and watching his sister sketch. Suddenly, he wondered if Raven was right.

He already knew the answer, of course.

 

Erik realized that, even if he was still fucking _pissed_ at Charles, he needed to get the scientist out of his tent. He'd closed the tent flaps shortly after Raven had left, and hadn't come out since. It'd been at least a few hours, and Erik knew that Charles was normally quicker to apologize than that. Either he was remorseful and depressed, or he'd tried digging hole in the ground beneath the tent to get to Tarzan...at least, that's what Remy had said in an attempt to get him to laugh.

It had, but it was starting to become more and more of a possibility as the sky faded to indigo, the stars twinkling overhead.

He walked over to Charles' tent, ready to just peek in and verify that he was there, maybe get him to eat dinner, but still let him know that he was not in any way forgiven. Erik opened the tent flaps and let out a whoosh of air when he saw that Charles was curled up in the fetal position in his pile of blankets, next to his books. Moonlight revealed several tear tracks glinting on his cheeks, his eyes red-rimmed and clenching with each shuddering breath.

It must have been him that had made Charles cry. There wasn't any one else who could have. Charles only cried when things were hopeless, out of his control. Things weren't, in Erik's opinion. It was more than easy just to apologize to Erik and Raven. They were his family, Tarzan be damned. They were obviously more important. Maybe Erik didn't know the full extent of everything. That was possible.

What could he not know, Erik wondered, that would make this situation more difficult to handle? Charles said Tarzan could only speak _some_ English. So it couldn't have been Tarzan complicating it more than he already had, not with words, anyway. Erik knew what was going on with Emma. The terms were simple, and besides, Charles shouldn't have been getting attached to Tarzan in the first place. That was Charles' fault, really, and something he could easily resolve if he just decided to use his words.

Erik dropped to his knees, still holding the tent open.

Was _he_ making it harder for Charles? Was him trying to protect Charles making him a recluse on his own expedition? That wouldn't have made sense, but Erik wasn't sure there was another answer. Certainly Charles was not meaning to make him angry, he never did, but Erik thought what he was doing was rather thoughtless.

And he hadn't forgotten about the funding. Why had Charles hidden that from him and Raven? That was inexcusable. Erik and Raven were part of the family, too, and just because Charles was Sharon's biological son didn't mean that he could hide something like that from them. It wasn't even about the money, for Erik. It was about trust, and how much Charles could rely on him. Erik could have helped him in finding a way to sue Kurt, he'd done enough to Sharon and Charles' father's company that they could probably get the money back without changing the will at all.

Even if Charles had decided to hide that from them, there was no reason why he shouldn't have told him someone _else_ was funding the expedition. That meant it was monitored, to an extent. That their findings were not their own.

But what angered Erik the most was that Charles thought he was doing the right thing. By not trusting his family members, by hiding. He thought that that was taking responsibility off of _their_ shoulders, but it was hurting Charles and them in the process. Erik couldn't figure out how a man as smart and brilliant as Charles could make such imbecilic decisions.

 _He has the right intentions,_ he thought. _He's trying to help, he's trying to make things easier._

Maybe that was true, for the funding at least. But then there was Tarzan. Then there was _Tarzan._ Tarzan, a man who acted like a gorilla and probably was about as strong and cultured as one, had kidnapped Charles, and Charles became... _infatuated?_ Erik was beyond confused and contemptuous. Charles hadn't even gotten any _other_ research done while they'd been there, because all he'd been thinking of was Tarzan, and how he was going to protect him. Consequently all _Erik_ had been thinking about was how to protect _Charles._

There was nothing Erik could say or do to make Charles see reason, not by scaring him, showing him the effects of his actions, not even by brute force. Erik knew Charles was stubborn, but this was taking it to another level of pigheadedness.

Remy had tried explaining to him that Charles was merely interested in Tarzan's scientific potential. Erik had tried, if not for Charles but for himself, to listen and understand, but he couldn't see the reasoning behind Charles' behavior. (Though, Remy _had_ been soaking wet from his shower, which was a distraction enough.)

That would make sense, what Remy said, except for the fact that Charles could find scientific potential in a dirty _rag_ and still pass by and listen to reason. As hard as it was to admit, Erik could see _some_ of the reasoning behind Charles' wonder for the ape-man, but not to the point of infatuation. Was it because Emma was interested in the man so much? _Erik_ would have been more interested in Tarzan if he were in Charles' shoes only because he seemed to have a price over his head. Not for the money, but the reasoning behind it.

But no, Charles rambled on and on about how Tarzan was _almost_ capable of human speech, _almost_ as polite as a human. He was worried about Tarzan because Emma was after him, and what confused Erik was that normally, in a situation such as this one, Charles would have nothing to do with it, at least not to this extent. Charles was crying alone in his tent in the middle of bloody _Africa,_ that's how much it was affecting him.

There had to be something more going on, Erik was sure of it. If it was going to break the jovial, bright scientist, Erik was going to figure it out too. That was his job,after all.

Despite his earlier plan Erik crawled into the tent, closed the flaps, and laid beside Charles, his larger body bracketing the scientist's smaller frame. He was warm, gently radiating heat, and Erik couldn't help but snuggle closer and press his nose to the back of Charles' neck.

There was a fluttering inhale, different from the others, and Charles shifted.

"Erik?" he whispered, his voice straining with sleep and tears. Erik pressed closer, determined to comfort Charles. Charles turned around in his arms to face him, his blue eyes visible in the dark. He smiled tiredly. "Erik...I'm so sorry...about..."

He yawned and hiccuped silently, the tears coming back. Erik exhaled softly and wiped them away with his thumb. "I didn't know what I was thinking, Erik."

Charles looked so beautiful in the moonlight, pale skin glowing and blue eyes glimmering. He looked like something out of a fairy tale. Erik closed his eyes and let Charles grab his hand. He let out a shuddering breath.

Erik opened his eyes to look down at Charles, who was looking up at him with an expression Erik had never seen before. Or, rather, an expression he'd never seen directed at him. It was filled with something akin to wonder and perhaps a touch of fondness, the look someone might read about in a romance novel. Erik watched as Charles scooted up, his eyes level with Erik's.

"Charles," Erik breathed, his throat feeling strangled. 

Charles smiled weakly, his eyes fond and drooping. Erik was leaning forward, almost of his own accord, when Charles' eyes fluttered shut completely and he fell asleep again.

Erik got up and kissed him gently on the forehead, like he used to when they were younger, then shakily stepped out of the tent. He still felt like he was floating, gently and nonchalantly, then Remy stepped into sight. 

"Not gone, I reckon?" Remy murmured. Erik shook his head and smiled again. Remy nodded stiffly and exhaled in a long stream of quiet air. His mouth twisted to the side as he bit his lip, something Erik had seen him do only a few times before. "Dat's good, then. Not gone."

He mumbled something, clenching his fists by his sides as he walked back over to his tent and went back inside. Erik had half a heart to ask him what was wrong, but he couldn't move. He was too overwhelmed with what Charles had said, and what Charles had done, and  _Charles_ that he had to stand still and process it all.

"Not gone," Erik repeated under his breath happily. "Not gone."

 

Raven watched as Emma cleaned her rifle. She hadn't used it since the warning shot that she'd fired when they'd met her. Raven supposed it was more of a habit than needing to clean it. 

"So you're here to kill a man, basically," she began. If she was to understand Charles at all, she had to try and look at this whole Tarzan thing from a different perspective. Emma looked up, her face condescendingly blank.

"I would barely call it a man, sugar," the blonde mercenary laughed, her head tilting to the side. "It's more of an ape."

"Carolus Linnaeus believed that men were related to apes," countered Raven smoothly, remembering Charles' babbling when he'd first read about it and to through the rest of her entire life up until the last few days.

"Something more monstrous, then." Emma went back to cleaning her gun again, the wrist motions practiced and controlled. "I would think as Mister Xavier's sister that you would be more concerned about this matter. He _is_ dangerous, whatever he may tell you."

"Then how about the names of the men he's killed?" Raven said. "What about them? Wouldn't we have heard about the lives of men lost in Africa in such mysterious ways?"

Emma finally set down her gun and looked at her. "People," she began matter of fact, "are weak creatures that believe they are strong. Very few aren't."

"What's that supposed to mean?" asked Raven quizzically. 

"It is best left unsaid," Emma finished, and with that, she grabbed her gun and walked away.

Raven felt a sense of dread unfurl in her stomach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Emma has SEVEN more chapters of this written that are sitting in my inbox glaring at me while I take as much time to edit this chapter as Sherlock is taking to get out season 4, so again, don't worry, this will not end as a WIP unless I die or succumb to Age of Apocalypse 
> 
> Which is totally possible because I burst out in tears at the new trailer (holy _SHIT_ though guys. GUYS)
> 
> Also sexi tiems (lol kind of) next chapter between gay 1 and gay 2!!


	6. An Entire Universe Unseen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charles awoke in the middle of the night by someone poking at his nose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter? Is it possible?

Charles awoke in the middle of the night by someone poking at his nose. Distantly, he thought it must have been Raven trying to get him up in the morning. Charles instinctively swatted the air petulantly, but instead of smooth skin or a braid, his fingers brushed up against fur. He opened his eyes to find a chimpanzee looking at him, baring its teeth in a familiar way. His heart skipped a beat elatedly.

_“Cheeta?”_

The monkey let out a soft noise, probably to confirm that yes, it was her. Charles chuckled in disbelief and sat up. Cheeta immediately took Charles by the hand and tried to pull him upright. Charles shook his head.

“I'm not dressed yet,” he tried to explain, but she only tugged harder. Charles realized, somewhat embarrassed, that Cheeta wasn't like Tarzan, even if they both acted like apes. She couldn't understand what he was saying by the tone of his voice, or his movements. He sighed and shook his head harder, hoping she would at least understand that.

Cheeta, if possible, pulled even _more._ Charles thought of Raven and Erik and the others outside, and how both Remy and Emma wanted Tarzan dead, and probably Erik too, come to think of it. Any more noise and at least the latter would come running, and he _especially_ would know what a monkey in his tent meant.

Then, there was the prospect of seeing Tarzan again. Charles looked at Cheeta, exhaled, then smiled determinedly.

“Okay, okay, but we have to be  _quiet."_ He put up a finger to his lips and tripped out of his cot. He pulled on a loose-fitting linen shirt and some canvas slacks, clumsily pulled on his socks and laced up his boots while Cheeta rummaged through his books and supplies. Charles almost walked out the tent, but he thought of Erik outside. He sighed.

Should he leave a note? Charles didn't want a repeat of the last time Charles left without Erik knowing, but he also didn't want Erik to follow him and find Tarzan as a result. A small part of Charles wanted to make Erik pay for being so close to Remy when he knew that the Cajun was an affiliate of Emma's, who neither of them trusted. Just the thought of them made Charles queasy.

But then, Charles suddenly wondered, was he being hypocritical? Was this how Erik felt when he talked about Tarzan? Even though Charles thought that what he and Tarzan were doing was infinitely more innocent than Erik and Remy, Charles could see Erik being possessive. He always was, of him especially; Charles was his only family, his only friend; had been for almost his entire life. Charles and Raven, the Xavier Mansion; that was all Erik knew.

Charles ripped a page out of his notebook and wrote down a note, quick and simple.

He was pulled back down to earth by Cheeta pawing at his leg. With one last look at the note, Charles set it down on the note and took a deep breath, then walked out of the tent.

Treading lightly, he let Cheeta scamper ahead to the treeline as he tried not to wake the others. One foot in front of the other, slowly, lightly. He tried not to breathe. In sight, barely visible in the slightly lighter indigo of the sky above. It would be sunrise in a few hours, Charles realized, and if he wanted to get out undetected by Erik he'd better go quickly.

He took one more step, then froze as a hand landed on his shoulder.

"Goin' somewhere, Charlie?" a Cajun voice whispered lowly, almost a hiss. Charles' knees nearly buckled in fright, and he just barely bit his lip to keep himself from yelping.

"This is none of your business, Remy," Charles replied as soft as he could, trembling. He could barely keep himself from glaring at the other man as he came into view.

Remy, usually flirtatious and warm, had the look of bloody murder in his eyes. His hands were clenched and his shoulders were rigid. Charles was relieved to see he didn't have a weapon on him, or he wasn't sure he would still be standing, or at least have all of his limbs.

Even so, Charles was half-sure Remy could kill him with his hands alone. That was not a very comforting thought, not when Charles felt Remy's mere gaze cutting into his skin.

"Maybe not." Remy's voice was cold, piercing. Charles shivered. "But it is Erik's."

"No," Charles got out. Remy stepped closer, his voice somehow even softer than before. The Cajun was furious, almost shaking. "It's _not._ You can't keep me from going."

"And I won't," replied Remy coolly. Charles' eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. "I won't. Go ahead, Mister Xavier, I'm not gonna stop ya."

"Then what are you doing?" Charles asked.

"Givin' you a chance to change your mind." Remy watched him for a second more, his eyes almost pitch-black. For a moment, he looked as if he would say something else, but he shook his head. Charles held his breath as the Cajun stepped to the side and gave him a clear path to the trees. With a shaky inhale, Charles continued walking...

But there was something he couldn't quite leave without saying. He turned his head towards Remy, whose gaze was still unwavering and emotionless.

"I suppose you're going to tell Erik about this when he wakes up," Charles said softly. He didn't need Remy's answer to know that he would. Charles sighed. "Tell him...tell him to go to my tent and look on my bed."

Remy said nothing. Charles took a deep breath and sprinted the rest of the way into the jungle.

 

The only reason why Charles was moving at all was because of Cheeta pulling on his arm. If not for her Charles would be lost in thought, the memory of Remy's cold expression and the guilt of leaving Erik while he was sleeping the only thing he could feel. It was as if Charles was Atlas, holding a world made of molten hot claws in his chest.

Then again, Charles wasn't sure he was quite strong enough to be Atlas. He could barely keep his family together, much less carry the planet on his shoulders.

Suddenly, Cheeta stopped pulling. Charles tripped on his own feet as he was forcefully halted.

As the sun tried to spill through the trees, weak orange light feebly leaking through, Charles could see the outline of a man. The burning torture in his chest lessened as Charles flung himself at Tarzan, wrapping his arms around him.

"Tarzan," Charles whispered. He let his head drop on to the defined chest of the other man, his body completely relaxing in Tarzan's tentative hold.

“Charles," laughed Tarzan. It reverberated through Charles too, oddly calming as he relaxed even further. Charles finally pulled back to look at Tarzan, who beamed. "Charles, here."

“Yes, yes,” Charles murmured breathlessly, chuckling as Tarzan nuzzled his nose into Charles' hair. "I'm here."

Abruptly, Tarzan pulled back. Charles arched an eyebrow as Tarzan gently grabbed hold of his wrist. "What is it?" Charles asked.

"Come, Charles," Tarzan said. Charles couldn't remember whether or not he'd said that before, or if Tarzan just knew. He would wonder later, because Tarzan was pulling him - like Cheeta, Charles realized with a smile - to a small, treeless patch of jungle. Overhead, Charles could see the moon, unobstructed by leaves, but just barely, as the Sun slowly regained its place in the sky. It was an inky purple canvas, dotted with fading stars and the slow, rich graduation of indigo to dark orange.

“Wow," he whispered in awe. "Oh, Tarzan, this is _beautiful."_

“Yes." Tarzan watched Charles again with a knowing smile.

“You remember English quite well, my friend," Charles remarked. Tarzan laughed, teeth bared.

“Come,” Tarzan said after a while. He extended his hand to Charles.

"Where?" asked Charles as he took Tarzan's hand, chuckling when he began to run in the other direction. "Tarzan, wait-"

"More," Tarzan called from in front of him, taking hold of the nearest vine. He turned around and pointed up. "See more."

Charles paused, looking at Tarzan's elated and wide-eyed expression.

"Yes," he breathed. "Let's."

 

Erik looked at the note in his hand, still in his tent. Remy was sitting inside, quietly watching. Cold rushed down his spine, traveled back up as white-hot  _rage._ Erik dropped to his knees, Remy hushing him quietly. He held up the note with a trembling hand.

_Erik,_

_I'm sorry. I promise I will be safe. I know that's what you think you're doing, and you are, but just trust me, okay? _

_Charles_

"Fuck," he whispered. He couldn't think of anything coherent to say as he reread the note. "No-"

"Cher," breathed Remy gently. "He means it, he really does."

Erik choked on his tongue as Remy shifted over to him, laid him back down and wriggled up against him, his nose brushing up against his ear. He let out a shuddering exhale.

"You've got to let him go." Remy's voice was low, the accent more apparent. "It's his decision."

"I know," choked Erik. "I just-"

"There's nothing you can do," said Remy with a resigned sigh. Erik's eyelids fluttered closed, focusing on the rise and fall of Remy's chest against his body. "He's taking care of someone, like you've been doing for him.

"Let someone take care of _you,_ Erik," whispered Remy. "You-"

Erik rolled over and sealed their lips together tightly, both hands on the sides of the Cajun's face, his eyes scrunched up. His entire body pounded along with his heart as drew back to breathe.

Remy's eyes were blown black, a small rim of rich brown around the pupil. He was smiling, face relieved, for some reason, and Erik had to pull him back in for another kiss.

And another, and another, until he could barely say a word, or think about anything else, much less Charles.

 

Tarzan guided Charles through the jungle, his own domain, confidently and as energetic as a small child. He stopped suddenly at a cave with a large patch of grass in front of it. Lounging in the grass were two leopards, one adult and a young kitten. Charles gasped and went rigid, knowing that the leopards were some of the deadliest creatures he would see there.

But Tarzan grabbed his hand and pulled him to them, purring in his throat like a cat. The adult leopard looked up and growled, its lips pulling back and showing its impressive - and intimidating - rows of teeth. Tarzan let go of Charles, who was ready to sprint the other direction, and crouched on all fours in front of the sleek black beast. He began to snarl and meow, just as a leopard would.

Charles watched in earnest curiosity and sheer amazement as Tarzan actually calmed the animal down. In mere seconds the leopard was quiet, though Charles could still tell it was wary. Tarzan stood up and gestured for Charles again.

“Charles,” Tarzan said, holding out his hand. Charles crept cautiously towards them. In a moment, the kitten came bounding towards Charles and ran around his ankles. The parent watched it carefully from behind Tarzan, its yellow eyes boring holes into Charles'. Charles swallowed, then began to laugh as the kitten licked at his hand, that was hanging by his side.

“Likes," commented Tarzan with a smile. Charles grinned in return. The kitten then pushed Charles to the ground and climbed onto his chest, mewing as it licked at his chin. Charles felt his breath freeze in his lungs.

Then Tarzan was flopping down beside him, petting the kitten behind the ears and massaging its neck with two fingers. Warmth bloomed in Charles' stomach as Tarzan nuzzled closer to him.

It was something rare that Charles was seeing. As if problems didn’t exist, that everything as all right. Charles felt safe and content with Tarzan, in the jungle, with one of the most dangerous places on Earth. And Tarzan _trusted_ him, trusted him like no other had, unlike most of the people in Charles' life. His father was the kindest soul Charles had ever known, his step-father the nastiest. His step-brother Cain was a mixture, was the end result of something pure being beaten and bruised into a gnarled, grotesque version of what it had used to be.

Even Erik and Raven, his two closest friends whom he regarded as siblings, didn't have the blind faith in him that Tarzan did. Tarzan didn't even know his language, Charles' intent, yet he extended his hand and offered him everything. 

 “I want to see it,” Charles whispered to the sky. Tarzan looked at him with a curious expression, his lips still curled upwards in a slight smile. Charles choked out a sob. “I want to see it all.” 


	7. The kindest Soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drama. Jungle stuff. Erik gets pissed. Remy gets OOC. 
> 
> Fun times had by all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah you're all thinking i'm a dickhead.
> 
> WELL GUESS WHAT YOU'RE RIGHT

“It’s been almost an entire day and Charles hasn’t come back,” Erik mumbled worriedly. Remy rubbed his back in a comforting gesture, which didn’t go unnoticed by Raven, who raised an eyebrow at the Cajun. Not caring if she disapproved, Erik leaned further back onto Remy’s hand and closed his eyes, focusing on the rhythmic circles his fingers kneaded into his muscles. He was careful not to elongated his neck too far, for if he did, his shirt might stretch to reveal the purplish marks left in an array of spots across his skin, like mottled constellations of stars. As if to remind Erik of them further, Remy pressed his fingertip into one. Erik bit the inside of his cheek, the memories of the other man’s mouth nipping at his collarbone, sucking until the blood rose to the surface of his skin, blossomed again in his mind with fervent color.

 

Last night had succeeded in distracting Erik, and Erik had needed a distraction. Being who he was, where he was, he was incredibly fortunate anyone was willing to give him what he’d wanted so desperately, let alone someone who was just as knowledgeable-if not more-in how to give it to him. Even so, that didn’t mean he could do it again-no, he needed to focus on finding Charles, which was what he should’ve been doing from the start, but that shouldn’t have to be his duty, to make sure Charles was morally sound, especially when he’s getting up in the dead of night right after apologizing for everything he’d done. Erik was not responsible for his friend’s hypocrisy, though he supposed he was now.

 

“He said it himself, he’s _safe_ with the murdering man-ape.” Emma smirked at Remy’s glare as she set down her canteen. Erik’s expression-part pleasure, part anger-was interesting enough to monitor for a split second, and was enough to see the small purplish mark under the line of his collar. She let out a low chuckle, understanding Remy’s sudden shift of allegiance. (Well, there was more physical proof now rather than reasonable assumptions, and it wasn’t like Emma hadn’t predicted it the moment she’d seen Remy merely _look_ at the other man.) “After all he, the _scientist,_ knows that he’s okay, merely because of a few hours of observation.”

 

“You’re not helping,” muttered Remy under his breath _._

 

“Neither is Charles,” Emma pointed out, then stood up, stretching her back.

 

Raven exhaled exasperatedly. “Look. If Charles hasn’t been killed by now, I would say that he’s going to be just fine, save a few mosquito bites and some sunburn.” Erik’s eyes snapped open and he took a breath to protest, but Raven stuck out her hand to silence him. “You say you want him to be safe, but then you escort him to Africa to fulfill one of his scientific endeavors, which happens to be in one of the most dangerous places on Earth.”

 

“I was going to protect him from _actual_ problems we should be facing, not ape-men who look like humans but act like goddamned _monkeys!”_ snapped Erik. He wrenched himself from Remy’s hands and lunged at Raven, gripping her by the shoulders. The other woman smirked, knowing from experience that Erik wouldn’t really hurt her, not ever. She figured that out when she always won the play-fights they had when they were kids (and sometimes still), even though it was quite obvious Erik was stronger than a lithe British girl. Ever since then she used it against him, and it worked quite well in arguments that had the possibility of getting physical.

 

She snaked her hand between them and smiled. “Erik, dearest, you’re making a scene.” Discreetly, because she was curious more than anything else, she also hooked a finger into the neckline of his shirt and pulled it down, revealing the half a dozen lovebites Remy presumably made the night before, mottled purple and red on his collarbone. (It’s not the first time she’d seen Erik’s chest all marked up from ‘lovers’, but those were with faceless London bar-goers, not devilishly handsome Cajun mercenaries. There was a difference between them, believe it or not.)  “It’s not _attractive.”_

 

Erik flushed redder than Charles in the beating African sun, and Raven knew that was her cue to release him with a peck to the cheek and an all-knowing grin. The German bit his lip and furrowed his brow until he could find a rebuttal and regain his pride, and knowing Erik it wouldn’t take long before his jaw would harden and his blue-green eyes would sharpen, their gaze more razor-edged than a knife.

 

Ah, there it was.

 

“What if he _does_ get hurt?” For some reason, Emma chuckled somewhat loudly at that, as if to mock him, which, knowing her, wouldn’t be that uncharacteristic.

 

“Why, but that’s what Tarzan is _for,_ hon! To keep him safe in the _big, bad jungle.”_ She pouted her lip out and dissolved into a low laugh at Erik’s expense. The humid air turned cold, Erik’s eyes flashing dangerously. Raven stepped forward and grabbed at his sides, rubbing up and down his flanks like she was calming a spooked horse. (He was just as destructive.)

 

Beside her Remy gritted his teeth. “It’s still possible. What do we do if he gets hurt and he’s not here? We haven’t exactly made Tarzan feel welcome enough to bring him back to camp, cher.” Whether the endearment was for Erik or Emma was unclear, but it was still a biting comment either way. Erik nodded absentmindedly, eyes clouded and fixated at a point in the dusty ground. Emma was sure that if she listened closely enough she could hear him thinking.

 

“You’re right,” said Emma, tilting her head the side, teasingly innocent-seeming. Raven flinched. “I guess we wouldn’t ever know. Poor Charles.”

 

Everyone else went silent, lost in terrifying, hypothetical thought. A chill ran down Erik’s spine, and he had to close his eyes against the full-body shiver, images of a mangled and bloody Charles flitting through his mind in a horrifying scrapbook of _what-ifs._

 

Raven took a deep breath and swallowed hard, pushing the thought of losing her best friend and brother figure far into the back of her mind (and hopefully into Emma’s).

 

Behind the blonde mercenary, the jungle continued to linger forebodingly, its lush green infrastructure housing her brother, and his possible doom. And yet, the bugs still clicked and the birds still trilled from their homes in the towering trees, oblivious, blind-sided. Just like Charles was, just like Raven wished she could be. To be jealous of a bug or a bird was a new low, and she mentally scolded herself. Of course they would get Charles back; it couldn't end that way. They were all going back to England with notebooks full of information and arms dotted with bug bites, they weren't returning back with a body in a bag and an ending to more than fifteen years of camaraderie and love between the three of them.

 

She realized with a jolt that if Charles died, or didn’t come back, Erik might leave her forever. Charles was always the driving force between them staying together throughout the years, keeping Erik from avenging his parent’s wrongful deaths, from keeping Raven from running away and hopping from life to life. If Charles died, the bond would be broken, and they’d go separate ways, probably never to see the other again.

 

To lose two brothers that way was unbearable to even think about, yet Charles was making the possibility of it happening less and less of just a nightmare Raven might have in the middle of the night.

 

But Raven would be damned if she let her brother die there, instead of in his London home at age seventy, surrounded by his books and his loving wife and his thirty-odd children and grandchildren following in his footsteps. He was going to get the life he deserved, and it wasn’t going to end at twenty-five in the remote land of Africa. Not where Raven was concerned, and not while Erik could do anything about it either.

 

“We need to go after him,” Raven whispered hoarsely. Erik’s head snapped around, and Emma began to smile. Despite their silence, she continued. “We need to go after him, and we need to bring him _back.”_

 

“Alone?” Emma’s mouth kept twisting upwards, and Raven hated to give her that satisfaction. Erik looked at her, his neck craning, his eyes final and determined. Raven averted her gaze back to the other woman.

 

“Yes.” The words seemed to echo in her head long after Emma clapped her on the shoulder and strode back to her tent, and it kept on resonating when Erik and Remy left to pack their supplies. Raven blinked, her eyes burning. She could almost see the betrayal in Charles’ blue eyes, boring into her soul and crushing it. There were some-but not many-things that motivated Raven to do things she didn’t want to do, and that look was one of them.

 

 _Oh Charles,_ she thought as she too crawled back into her tent, ready to pack her things for when they leave in the morning, _I’m sorry. I had to. I’m_ sorry.

 

_***_

  


By now, the sun was just starting to sink, leaving the jungle just that much dimmer, and slightly more sinister. But Charles didn’t give into the mysteriousness of the jungle trees and the shadows, not when there was Tarzan by his side, his lamp in the darkness. He still pulled Charles ahead with boyish enthusiasm and vigor that Charles couldn’t help but envy.

“Where are we going?” Charles asked finally, as they seemed to be passing the same place over and over. They weren’t, but the jungle was incredibly similar looking everywhere, where all the undergrowth began to blend together and the trees all could be described with three words: huge, brown, and tall. Yet, Charles had no doubt that the man in front of him knew where he was going. Somehow Charles could just feel it, and it scared him more than the danger of wilderness.

 

“Up,” Tarzan said. He crowded closer to Charles, reaching for his arms. Charles let him.

 

“Up?” Charles watched as Tarzan gently gripped Charles’ wrists and positioned them around his neck. He put two and two together a bit too late. “Tarzan-wait, do you mean- _Tarzan-!”_

 

Tarzan, without warning, vaulted onto a vine, climbing up and swinging until he could reach another one, which got him to a higher branch, where he could continue to grip and climb onto another vine. Charles tried not to make any noise, lest scaring Tarzan and having them plummet to their inevitable death, but it took a lot of effort to hold in the screams. After a while, Charles finally resorted to closing his eyes and ignoring the sickening _swoop_ his stomach made whenever they were in midair.

 

It was not an easy task, but he managed, and they were finally on stable ground-or branch, as Charles saw. Thankfully, it was large enough for Charles to be able to lie spread-eagle on it and let there still be a bit of space for him to shift. He still swallowed, being as high up as they were, but Tarzan’s grin eased that sick feeling in his stomach.

 

“This is up,” Tarzan chuckled playfully. Charles blushed.

 

“Well I know that _now,”_ replied Charles in a quiet voice. The other man laughed again and nuzzled his nose into Charles’ hair, breathing in deeply. Charles closed his eyes against Tarzan’s chest, taking in the fresh, damp scent of Tarzan. It was unlike the smell of Londoners, who reeked of old cobblestone and smog. This was a natural and wholesome musk, and Charles buried his nose into the crook of Logan’s shoulder, where it seemed to be strongest.

 

Oh, how novel Tarzan was. Never before had Charles met a man remotely like Tarzan, and he realized that was because Tarzan was the farthest _from_ a man that a human could possibly be, given where he grew up. And yet, even with the manners some-not _all-_ men had, the capability of speaking in complete English, and their capacity for recognizing social cues, Charles favored Tarzan to most men. Maybe it was his genuineness, or his young curiosity, or perhaps it was just that Tarzan seemed to listen without bias, because he’d grown up without it.

 

Charles found that he needed someone to just vent his frustrations to, and have them really _listen._ Sure, Tarzan might not be able to fully _understand,_ but as they bounded through the jungle the entire day, Charles was able to spout out all his troubles to him and Tarzan just nodded along, and somehow Charles was sure that he was taking in every word. Erik tried, Charles knew, but he didn’t just sit back and listen to Charles and his worries. Raven didn’t put in any effort at all, or so it seemed. It wasn’t easy for her to sit still, so Charles couldn’t blame her much.

 

But Tarzan seemed to just love _being_ with Charles, hearing him speak, taking in the language and the customs. And just as Tarzan loved Charles’ ways, Charles was beginning to love Tarzan’s. His world was so _different,_ so distinctly dissimilar to the stuffy city of London. It was lush and green and _alive,_ with actual creatures, not crotchety old men who had been alive for longer than some major scientific discoveries and inventions.

 

Charles loved it, and he wanted more, to see all of Tarzan’s world and understand it. Or not understand it, but just be able to revel in its unmarred beauty.

 

Tarzan laid down, and patted the thick, wide tree branch to signify for Charles to do the same. Charles sat down in front of Tarzan and let the other man grip his smaller hands in his calloused, large ones. Humming, the scientist closed his eyes and smiled.

 

“What Charles thinking?” Tarzan asked quietly. Charles let his eyes flutter open to Tarzan’s inquisitive expression and chuckled, soft and reverent. What an amazing creature.

 

“I was just thinking how beautiful everything you’ve showed me today is.” Charles turned over Tarzan’s hands so that their palms were facing up. He rubbed his thumbs into the skin of them, tan and rough from swinging from the vines of the jungle. Charles wished he had hands like these, proof of work and hardship. No, he had scholar’s hands, soft and pale and fragile. Living in luxury, Charles never had to perform any physical labor other than holding a quill and enduring the pain of paper cuts. Erik had working hands, and he still did, though they’d softened over the years. Sometimes, when they slept in the same bed, Charles would just run the pads of his fingers over the hardened skin, just to feel the contrast. “Thank you for showing me your world, Tarzan. It’s amazing.”

 

Tarzan grinned in return, fingers gripping Charles’ thumbs, pressing them to his palms. “Yes.” He slipped his hands out of Charles’ crawled towards him, laying down and gently pressing his palm down on his chest, making him lay down too. A low, rumbling sound emitted from Tarzan’s throat, like a cat enjoying the sun. Charles inhaled happily, taking in the smells and sounds of the jungle.

 

“Sky lights, Charles,” Tarzan whispered, pointing his finger at the stars, which were beginning to gently appear across a lavender and persimmon-orange sky. Charles smiled.

 

“Stars,” Charles replied softly. He snaked his own arm up Tarzan’s outstretched one, and tangled their fingers together. For a while, he just looked at their intertwined fingers, locked like the roots of the trees below. He squeezed their hands together, the pressure welcoming and warm.

 

The image of their woven fingers against the lovely backdrop of the setting sun and the moon peeking out from behind the trees was one that almost brought tears of awe to Charles’ eyes. He had to close them, and instead focused on the sound of Tarzan breathing contentedly, the whirs and clicks of the locusts and the twitter of treefrogs. Something that he would never be able to hear again once he left, he realized. Which was when, not if. Charles let their hands fall back down to their sides. _When_ he left, Tarzan would undoubtedly stay here, and Charles would be back in London cataloguing information and writing papers to send to universities, that taking up most of his time if not all.

 

It would be back to dressing in woolen layers most of the year, and avoiding pushy street vendors and pick-pockets on the way back from the library before dark. A small part of Charles would always love London, even with its flaws, but in Africa, with Tarzan specifically, he felt freer than he had ever been. There weren’t any other people besides the ones he knew, and there was miles of space in between them.

 

And there was barely any space in between he and Tarzan.

 

For about the sixtieth time that day, Charles was struck by how _handsome_ Tarzan was. And it wasn’t based on how he _should_ look because of where and who he lived with, but just normal standards. Normal, male-to-male standards. If Erik was already off the charts, Tarzan might as well be in another _galaxy,_ as far as Charles was concerned anyway. His defined, brawny muscles were almost asking Charles to squeeze them, and the prominent hipbones made him want to trace his finger into the dips. Of course,there was also his bright eyes and perfect, beaming smile… Charles let his thoughts taper off into just images of the other man, the words almost too shameful to think.

 

Charles felt Tarzan shift beside him, and he realized that the other man was asleep.

 

“Goodnight, Tarzan,” he whispered as quietly as he could. He pressed a soft kiss to his shoulder, then draped his arm carefully over his chest, waiting for sleep to come for him as well.

 

***

 

Erik forcefully stuffed his sheathed machete into his pack and fell back with a huff. Half of his body landed on his cot, the other half landed sprawled out on the ground. Underneath his back he felt a small stone poke at his ribs petulantly, making him groan and roll over onto his chest, his entire frame off the bed and on to the dusty earth.

 

He inhaled deeply, his face twisted up in weariness, which proved to be a mistake as the sand-like soil blew right up his nose and his parted mouth.. “Fu- _huck!”_ he swore, coughing to get the dust from his lungs and nose. He scrambled to his hands and knees.

 

 _This seems about right,_ Erik thought vehemently, though he wasn’t sure where it was directed at. Probably Charles, for dragging him to this humid jungle continent. It was _supposed_ to be for research, for collecting data and spending a few months there _studying,_ but Erik was sure Charles hadn’t made any progress on anything yet, other than finding the world’s only ape-man, whose only purpose in modern society would be for him to be in a traveling circus getting some con-man rich.

 

But that was just like Charles, always jumping from project to project. Except, apparently, this project had cost them more than they bargained for. No, Erik hadn’t forgotten Charles’ secret about the funding of the exploration, far from it. If Erik was considered part of the family, then he would be included in family matters, regardless of Charles’ personal capacity for handling them on his own, which he’d proven that he couldn’t exactly do as well as he’d thought. Not that Erik would have known what to do, but he could’ve helped Charles figure the entire thing out before taking a out a loan-a loan from a company that was owned by Emma’s boss, no less.

 

There was no way Charles could’ve known that, of course, but they probably wouldn’t be in the situation if Erik and Raven had been involved; sure, they probably wouldn’t be in Africa to begin with, except Erik would’ve favored almost anywhere else in the world at that point. If he had known what was going to take place on the expedition before they began, he would’ve just placed a globe in front of Charles and spin it until Charles put his finger on some random country. (Though, Charles was knowledgeable in geography enough to know where Africa was anyway. Maybe Erik should have gotten him drunk first in that scenario...he’d at least pick somewhere where Tarzan _wasn’t_ at that point.)

 

But no, now they owed money to some faceless businessman who had some sort of vendetta against Tarzan-for killing people, presumably, though Charles kept saying that Tarzan could never harm another person, and Erik had half a heart to want to believe him, if not to be humane, to spite Emma-and there were two of his mercenaries in their camp. Granted, one of them acted more like some New Orleans gambler than a contracted killer, but Erik wasn’t going to split hairs when he had more important things to focus on.

 

The only reason he let Charles think that was because he was trying to reconcile, and that had only worked for about a quarter of a goddamned _day,_ because Charles was off and gone again in the middle of the night. Or early morning, as Remy had informed him.

 

Erik crawled back into his cot, not bothering to take off his boots. Laying face down in the pillow, he let the exhaustion outweigh the anger and let it chase the buzzing feeling in his bones away, replacing it with weariness that seeped into every pore. It took a great amount of effort to lift his head up for air, his nose having been pressed into his pillow and restricting the oxygen.

 

He went on like this for a while; bury his head, let the thoughts leave, come back up before he could get asphyxiated, repeat. It wasn’t for some time before he registered the weight on the cot next to his body, or another’s breathing. He looked up wearily, locking eyes with Remy, who was watching him sympathetically. Erik laid on his cheek, watching Remy out of the side of his eye.

 

“Oh, _mon doux_ _,”_ the Cajun whispered, his native tongue even smoother than his sensual-sounding English. Erik shivered as the other man bent down and kissed his cheek, murmuring French endearments and promises against his skin. _“ -_ _vous méritez tellement plus que cela…”_

 

Erik turned his head and caught his lips mid-speech, already open. Remy let out a small noise as Erik drew his tongue into his mouth with his teeth, tugging gently at the warm, slick muscle.

 

Lips locked, only parting for occasional and reluctant breaths, Erik submitted to the press of Remy’s mouth, closing his eyes and letting him steal his breath and take his thoughts to another place, rather than his pillow and bone-deep tiredness.

 

***

 

Every time Emma was alone, the Xavier sister intruded on her solitude. In some respects, it was annoying, but on the other hand, it was entertaining to see someone so similar in upbringing to their brother turn out so remarkably different.

 

Not that Emma was complaining; she wasn’t. Xavier One was a whining, naive brat who happened to take a liking to science. Xavier Two was the complete opposite in almost every aspect but that they grew up with Not-Xavier for a large portion of their lives. (That wasn’t fair. All Emma got as a child was a hunting dog and apathy from her parents. _They_ were born or assimilated into one of the wealthiest families in Europe, excluding the royals, _and_ got to see the most gorgeous man on two legs grow up. He grew up an invert, but who was Emma to split hairs.)

 

In most regards Emma liked the other woman. She was honest, witty, and if Emma was capable and willing, would not be a terrible acquaintance. Sure, she stuck by her moronic brother too often, but then again so did Erik, and Emma was half-certain he was perpetually squashing a baby bird in his fist at all times, just so his anger and rage wouldn’t consume him from the inside out. (That was what Remy was there for, she guessed. Emotional support and illegal sodomy. Sometimes the former through the latter.)

 

Raven threw her travel bag on the ground with a dull _thud._ Turning, Emma saw grave features etched into the other blonde’s expression, her eyes narrow slits, almost yellow in the light of the fire. “What’s troubling you, sugar?” The question had an obvious answer, but the way Raven’s face twisted from finality to contempt was fascinating to watch, like Remy’s shift in attitude once a handsome male came into eyeshot.

 

“You know what’s _‘troubling me’,”_ she hissed.

 

Emma smirked. Honestly, what trivial matters she thought brought her grief. She didn’t know _half_ of it. Maybe that was Charles’ fault. For a moment all they did was watch each other, icy blue eyes on hazel, battling until the other yielded.

 

But Emma had more she needed to say, so, without taking her gaze off the other woman, she opened her mouth to speak. “You’re worried about your brother.”

 

Raven snorted. “An astute observation.” Her voice was cruel. Emma reveled in the challenge; how few she got from an almost-worthy opponent.

 

“What he’ll think of you, acting just like Erik,” Emma cooed as she stepped closer to her, slowly, like a panther slinking in the shadows, waiting for the perfect time to strike. “He trusts you more than he trusts him, what with you being more stable and all. So to have that trust _betrayed-”_

 

“Charles will understand once I explain it to him.” Emma watched as Raven jutted out her chin and swallowed proudly. _How foolish,_ Emma thought, _just like her brother._

 

“Explain what? That you don’t trust him to make his own decisions, just like everyone else in his life? I’m not sure he’d like that,” chuckled Emma cruelly. It was like drawing a sharp blade across the line of an artery; so _close,_ so tantalizingly _near,_ but not yet, not piercing the skin, but if she waited for the right place to dig in the knife...

 

By the look on Raven’s face, Emma was close.

 

“Charles is a sensible human being,” said Raven, “He’s not Erik. He _listens_ to an opposing point of view.”

 

Her eyes were aflame, blazing hot and dangerous. Emma could feel the heat in her gaze from several feet away. Oh, what fun. Provoking Raven was almost as fun as Erik, who only took the cake because of how much hope he bestowed upon such a hopeless cause. Raven, on the other hand, had the look of a defeated woman that was going to fight until her last breath. There were merits to playing with constant, barely-flickering fire, just as there were with short-lived, powerful blazes.

 

Emma personally liked durability.

 

She smiled in what she wished could hold a candle to Erik’s intimidating show of teeth. “Sugar...in the end, there is no ‘sensible human being’. There is only man, and its opposing forces.”

 

Raven laughed lowly, the sound thicker than her usual laugh. She watched the horizon for a moment, then let her eyes travel back to Emma’s. “You know, sometimes, you make me think the Devil really does exist.”

 

“Believe me… **.** ” Emma trailed off in a smirk, realizing how much Raven did not understand. She strode past the other woman to get to her tent, but before she did, she whispered: _“He does.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> vous méritez tellement plus que cela: you deserve so much more than that
> 
> mon doux: my sweet
> 
> SEE YOU NEXT TIME (lol joke see because you might not considering how goddamn long i take to write these fuckin' things)

**Author's Note:**

> Coment and Kudo!!!! and thank you for your attention.


End file.
